


Two Faces

by AuthorLoremIpsum



Category: Original Work, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Bar fights, Bipolar Disorder, Depression, F/M, Fist Fights, Gen, Implied/Referenced Medical Abuse, Prostitution, Self Harm, Suicidal Ideation, implied self harm, implied/referenced institutionalization, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorLoremIpsum/pseuds/AuthorLoremIpsum
Summary: What everyone thinks: Jekyll is a 100% good person and Hyde is another being of pure evilReality: Hyde is every impulse Jekyll wanted to eliminate to keep his perfect facade intact and the serum made it possible for him to express those impulses without worry about ruining his reputation until it went too farWhat I'm Doing: Hyde is Jekyll without the inhibitions of depression or responsibility with the added insanity and impulse of bipolar mania, but he's much more human than everyone makes him out to be. Hyde is all about being alive and experiencing things while Jekyll is all about curing his condition and being selfish.-Originally Posted August 2017 on Wattpad by yours truly-
Relationships: Canon/Original Character - Relationship, Edward Hyde/Miss Lilly, Henry Jekyll&Hastie Lanyon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. From The Journal Of Doctor Jekyll

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this work was part of a storytelling ask blog on tumblr, cross posted to Wattpad.  
> Then Wattpad decided that it was too good for my artwork and hid one of the chapter covers  
> so I finally got off my butt and moved it here!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted August 06 2017

September 11th

Once again, I find myself lost in some sort of unsourced misery. It weighs on my soul like an anchor, muddies my thoughts and actions, time passes strangely and sleep eludes me like a forgotten dream. Each action and thought become a war or self control, for I know there are far easier ways to abandon this sorrow than to wait for it to pass.

Despite the exhaustion and regret that comes with it, I long for the days recently past where energy and drive were not in question. Days without sleep, hell-bent on discovery and innovation, reinvention of modern medicine, and when nothing remained to do, I made my own fun.

But no fun can lift my spirits now. I may smile, or even laugh, but my mind is burdened with a curse of the soul like few others. I have no doubt some fault in my own mind is the cause of this continually returning waves of grief and intensity that have plagued me since late childhood. Recent research has lead me to believe it is no fault of my actions or my mother before me, but of my mind in of itself.

I have spent many years learning all I could of chemistry, selfishly hoping to find some archaic chemical that might alter my state of mind to rid myself of this melancholy. I have tried medicines and treatments of many kinds, finding that many of them do not help my sorrow or worse, drive my manic episodes to the brink of insanity. I recall returning to my senses after one such experiment to find my lab in shambles and my hands further cut by shattered glass.

Miss Violet Poole was kinder to me than I deserved, bandaging my hands and cleaning my laboratory when I could hardly stand, despite how clearly shaken she was. I thanked her profusely and made an effort to give her some time off following the event that she might recover from whatever I had done to terrify her so badly. Upon waking from the influence of the lithium, I had found her in such a state of panic that I had never witnessed in all her time under my employ.

Given her time here, she understands my moods like few others and has thus left me to my devices as this familiar shadow of the mind sets in.

I wish this darkness did not exhaust me so greatly, for I'm days away from what I'm certain will be an incredible discovery. In my lifelong search for the cure to my ailment, I believe I have discovered a new mineral that could aid me greatly. A fellow chemist sent me a package from somewhere beyond India containing an absurd number of large jars filled with a bitter tasting salt.

The letter explained that, according to the people who lived in the area from which this salt was mined, it was known to give energy and new life to individuals with conditions like mine. As fantastic as it sounded, I was enthused to test it in my experiments and, at the time, fueled by that insatiable energy that I am so familiar with. For days I have been examining it to determine chemical impurities and comparing it to lithium and other medicines to determine what effects it could have on the mind. I had planned to spend this day testing a solution made with the salt on rats caught off the street, yet I have not even the energy to leave my bed for more than the most basic hygiene needs.

I find myself pondering dark and sinful things as I lay here, thoughts so often ignored , louder than ever. It is clear to me that I must never allow myself to succumb to these ideas and memories, the scars on my wrists are enough of a reminder that I have a life to live and these horrid dreams and ideations are nothing more than that.

If I won't live for myself, then for others. I am a doctor after all I have a responsibility to uphold, despite how my heart and soul protest.

September 12th

With Poole's assistance and encouragement, I steeled myself and continued work on my experiments this morning after she arrived with news of where we could acquire mice. Skipping the tedium of bargaining for street rats, the solution seemed to make the rats first very confused and lethargic, then after some painful shrieking they seemed much more energetic and easily angered. This wore off after a few hours and a second dose seemed to produce the same results without much difference.

I intend to make a serum that, with prolonged dosage, could make the change to the more energetic state of mind and body permanent, thus banishing the melancholy and exhaustion that plagues my mind so often.

If I am successful, I will never lose time to this grief again, I will be unstoppable.

September 14th

Attempts to make the energy changes seen in the rats a permanent phenomenon has been met with an interesting turn of events. After continuous dosage for almost two days it is clear that the two energetic states are actually two different personalities it seems.

The energetic half is more violent and desperate, biting at me and attempting numerous tries at escape, similar to their behavior pre-serum, but more aggressive. When the effects of the serum have finally worn off, it leaves behind a seemingly kinder and more domesticated personality that seems far more pet-like than a wild rat should be.

Perhaps there is a way to isolate this kinder personality while also keeping the more energetic state of the more wild half?

September 17th

Work has been slow, I have become more and more exhausted as the days pass. Progress has been made and the mice are remaining both docile and energetic for longer and longer. Likewise, in another test group with but two rats, I have been able to isolate the more wild personality, the original rat mindset it would seem. But the effects are not permanent, something I intend to fix.

I can only imagine that the effects I am seeing are due to their small bodies and even smaller brains causing the change to take place at an accelerated rate.

I believe I have the serum nearly perfected, but a test on a larger animal is required before I even dare to consider testing on a human. If I can manage, I will travel to the nearest pound and find a dog or cat of moderate health to serve as a test subject. Indeed, in some minds this is immoral and cruel, but for the sake of science some boundaries must be crossed.

During a particularly dismal period this afternoon, Ms. Poole sent for my good friends Jacob Lanyon and Gabriel Utterson in hopes of lifting my spirits. We convened in the parlor and talked for many hours over wine, and though I did enjoy myself while they were here, I found myself quite irritated with Lanyon after he began to laugh at my recent experiments.

He warned me about becoming obsessed with another fairytale, saying my search for this cure to my mania would either kill me or someone else, and I certainly believe him. However, I choose to ignore such risks in favor of knowing that many lives, firstly mine, could be dramatically improved if I perfect this. He didn't listen when I began to describe the personality altering aspects of the serum and I became positively livid.

Of course, I am too much a gentleman to ever insult someone so valuable as Lanyon, so I held my tongue.

Utterson was quite supportive of my idea, on the other hand. A lover of the interesting and curious, I knew he would be. I will need his assistance if I ever to seek to move forward with human testing, as he is part of the St. Luke's Hospital governing board. However, he was much concerned for my physical and mental health, urging me to take a break, join him for a weekend at his country home outside of the city and becoming slightly morose when I denied this request. 

I believe most of what he said was in his judicial nature to try and diffuse the tension between Lanyon and I by changing the subject. He knows how to handle an argument as well as understand both sides of an argument. And while it is commendable, he's rather irritating when he tries to play neutral at all times without taking sides. It would be far easier if he took a side and aided me in convincing Lanyon for his assistance in my experiment.

Alas, it is unchangeable now. Lanyon is loyal, incredibly intelligent, but an idealistic optimist when it comes to health and morality, I don't blame him for thinking I am mad, it sounds like the mad ravings of a dreamer. And there is little room for dreams of this scale in Lanyon's world, he thinks so critically and scientifically of things.

But he'll see.

September 19th

The mice have become completely docile, to my endless delight, but it was clearly not without consequence for all of them seem exhausted and noticeably melancholic. This, does not bode well for me. Similar effects were present in the other rats despite my efforts to keep them in the energetic state. However, they are swiftly recovering and have become very sweet and docile. 

I'm considering keeping them as pets at this point.

Regardless, all of this has lead me to wonder if I am coming at this experiment from the wrong direction. Originally I sought to rid myself of my melancholy but instead found a way to rid oneself of cruelty and anger, turning wild street rats into sweet pets. I am curious what the effects would be on a person, would it erase cruelty and vileness from a person's personality? And what of melancholy? Would that be erased too?

We shall see, I suppose, after we see the effects of the serum on a dog. A mutt, healthy enough, with a strong bite that has resulted in my left hand being thoroughly bandaged, hopefully he will be as sweet as the mice within a few days.

September 23rd

This is going to be far more difficult than I had anticipated. In order to test the dog, he must be first sedated and then restrained by Poole and myself to prevent either of us from getting bit.

Again.

Beyond that, it's impossible to tell if the serum is having an effect while the dog is so sedated, and by the time he wakes up it is impossible to tell!

Despite this, the results are following the same changes as seen in the mice. However, the dog seems noticeably more melancholic in his original state as opposed to being energetic, while his second state is almost puppy-like. 

I have been feeling slightly better myself, though the shadow of melancholy has not left me yet. I am curious to see how much I can complete should I return to my more manic state before the experiments have been completed.

Hope of finally being free from my melancholic mindsets has kept me afloat these past days, accompanied by the growing hope of creating a kinder world with myself at the head. All so perfect seeming, yet I know it is not possible until I perfect my serum, and even then it is unlikely it would have an affect on the scale I dream of.

But I must not give up on such dreams, nor should I indulge them too deeply. I have limited salt, already having consumed a whole jar in the beginning phases of the experiments and now halfway through another. My friend in India has likely moved on and I highly doubt I should be able to get in contact with him should I run out.

I can only hope it, the supply, won't run out before then.

September 25th

Given my good progress with the dog, it now is able to roam the house freely as it does not attack Poole or myself, I am finally ready to present my findings to the board at St. Luke's. Last night over dinner I discussed the meeting with Gabriel and he insisted I need not worry about setting up a meeting with the board.

It's not that that concerns me.

I am concerned the Board will not believe me and deny my request for a human test subject, even someone from the psychiatric ward. I am fully aware of the immorality of my request, to test such dangerous and mind-altering chemicals on someone who might not be able to deny it is horrid, I am fully aware. But it is necessary to determine if I should further alter the serum for human consumption.

Additionally, even a mentally deranged individual could provide useful data concerning the transformation itself.

Is it painful? Does the second personality recognize itself as someone else or is it more like the effects of some sort of intoxicant where you merely act different because you forget things? So many questions that simply cannot be answered without human testing.

I will go tomorrow with Gabriel and discuss this with the board. I have a plan, an opportunity to do good and not even the deepest of melancholy will stop me now. 


	2. His Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted August 06 2017

It was illogical and unscientific to call this phenomenon evil, or good for that matter. The swings of deep melancholy and mania were uncontrollable and unstoppable, however they were predictable. 

How much of this experiment had been to save himself from these swings? How much had become something more? He kept telling himself now that it was to create a better world, but in all likelihood that was no more true than the idea that there was some way to stop this oscillation of moods. And yet, the facts didn't lie. 

There was a chance.

Henry Jekyll sighed deeply and pulled himself a little straighter, adjusting his coat sleeves and collar in the full length mirror before him. He'd be honest at the hearing, tell them all he'd discovered about the salt and the serum, merely hide his motives of erasing his melancholy with some noble goal of making the world kinder. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair, it sounded like a lofty, noble goal, and indeed it didn't make much sense, but he couldn't outright tell them it was all for himself could he?

Especially not with Carew still at the head of the board.

He donned his top hat, a deep brown with a golden sash, and turned to his desk, gathering papers in an attempt to ease his anxiety. Everything had to be perfect, as always, otherwise the experiment would end today when they denied him. Worry chewed at Henry's mind as he shut his briefcase with a  _ click _ . So close to perfection, he just needed time and more tests!

A knock at the door, "Sir! Your cab is here!"

"Thank you Violet," he called back, steeling himself. He turned and strode for the door, hesitating with his hand inches from the doorknob as something else nagged at him. He turned his hand over, staring at the deep scars that crossed his palms and ringed his fingers, of course. He turned and plucked the black satin gloves from his desk, slipping them on to hide the scarring.

The knock came again, "Doctor? You are actually awake in there correct?" Henry pulled open the door and smiled, "Of course, it is far too late in the day to be sleeping. The cab is waiting outside yes?"

"Yes sir," Poole said with a smile, her bright eyes showing some form of deep relief. Then she frowned, "Doctor, are you feeling well enough to be presenting in front of the Board today? You look tired."

"I will be fine," Jekyll said with a sigh. He waved his hand dismissively, "It's merely one of those days you understand, where duty calls but the mind refuses. I'll be quite alright." 

The two began to walk in the general direction of the front door.

"If I recall correctly, you said something similar before Lanyon arrived with you, a sobbing mess, in the coach not three months ago," Violet said with a frown. She shrugged, "You know my concern for you is founded purely on the aspect you don't care enough for yourself at times."

"You should know then, I'll be fine," Jekyll replied firmly, adjusting his glasses with an air of false confidence. In truth, he was nearly shaking with the fear that he was going to accidentally say something wrong and it would all come out before the Board, his selfishness, his condition, and his reputation as the level headed doctor would vanish. 

He could remain, wait for another day, but that alone could damage everything. He had to prove himself today, face Carew again and pretend nothing was wrong. Just like any other day really.

They entered the front room and Poole took Henry by the shoulders, "I've known you for at least six years Dr. Jekyll, I will think no less of you if you-"

"Enough!" Jekyll snapped, brushing her hands from his shoulders. "If I do not go now, all my work will be frozen. I cannot miss this opportunity to, to make history!" Violet Poole paused, conflicted, before sighing, "Very well sir. I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you Violet."

~

The room was empty of excess decorations and the walls were made of old wood, stained a dark brown. There were two tables, one long and curved with steep backed chairs behind it, the Board's table. The other was small, a brown desk with a shorter, ordinary looking chair behind it. The floor was tile, its purpose intended to be walked on and stood on, but not looked on. A cold breeze drifted through a single open window that painted the room with pale light from the cloudy day outside, bringing the smell of working London with it.

The hard flooring made Jekyll's footsteps loud as he paced the room, one hand on his chin and the other behind his back.  _ He _ was early,  _ they _ were late, that was all.

Every moment that passed was filled with dread and worry, nightmarish thoughts tugged at his mind, making his logical thoughts foggy and cluttered. Occasionally he muttered something under his breath, his plan, things he was going to say, things he  _ needed  _ to say, all in hopes that this would work.

It  _ had  _ to work.

He heard the rumbling of nearing voices and stopped pacing, standing ramrod straight and looking to the door as they got closer. The first person in the door, a man of wider stature with a thinning hairline and well taken care of mustache, smiled at Jekyll. "Ah! Henry! You made it, early in fact!"

"Good morning to you too Gabriel," Henry said with a practiced smile as his friend strode over. They shook hands and Utterson shook his head. "Lad, I hope you've brought something good, none of the Board is in good spirits this morning. I worry they'll turn you down without hesitation if you aren't careful. How are you?"

"Still in the slump of melancholy," Henry replied, shrugging slightly. He pulled his hands from Uttersons and clasped them behind his back, "I am, eager to get back to work however." Better to distract myself from these thoughts of gloom, he added silently. "Is Lanyon coming? Is he busy?"

"Quite, a number of people were injured in a carriage crash not too blocks away," Gabriel explained with a sigh. "He's setting bones as we speak, and I'm afraid he won't make it in time."

"I doubt he'd want to see anyhow, given how mystic he thinks my experiments are," Jekyll said a little bitterly. Utterson shook his head, "Is that any way to speak of our good friend?"

"I suppose not. I'm worried this won't work Gabriel."

"Henry, trust me, if you can impress the rest of the board, I don't doubt you'll be right on track," Utterson said with a nod, giving Jekyll a reassuring pat on the shoulder before going to take his seat at the table.

Of the six on the Board, Henry only recognized one other. He knew the rest of them by reputation, a stubborn bishop, a generous nurse, a retired military general, and a miserly investor. The Bishop and the Investor were both uninterested in progressive medicines, but the Nurse would be a better target. The General might also recognize the benefit of lessening human cruelty and melancholy, but why would any of them listen to a dreaming chemist of all people?

Especially considering what they knew of Jekyll's medical record.

Henry shook his head and looked to the sixth member of the Board, the one with the power to ruin everything at the drop of a hat as he had demonstrated before. Sir Danvers Carew, head doctor at St. Luke's and established psychologist. Almost fifty, his hair was shock white from stress and his face hard from years of work. He wore half circle glasses and always seemed to be looking down his nose at someone in a condescending manner.

Jekyll swallowed hard and stood a little straighter, remembering days of classes at St. Luke's under Carew's tutelage, and even earlier days of wrongful internment in the psychiatric wing under Carew's watchful eye. God what awful times those had been, melancholy so deep nothing could pull him out and mania so wild nothing could stop him, he'd been no greater than the masses of insane within that wing of St. Luke's. 

Because of  _ him.  _

Jekyll was fortunate enough to have been released, not fortunate enough to be cured.

"Doctor Henry Jekyll," Carew said slowly, the old man taking a heavy seat in his chair at the table. "You have returned to us, out of a straight jacket and student's uniform this time. To propose, what exactly?" His stare was piercing and Henry fought the urge to shudder. Jekyll took a deep breath and began: "Distinguished governors, you are aware that there are two distinct sides to the personality of man..." 

It took all of his will for Jekyll not to shy away from Carew's steely gaze as he explained the purpose of the experiments, remembering to leave out the part about it intending to rid the mind of melancholy and sorrow. Only after he made the purpose clear did he avoid Carew's eye, instead continuously moving as he explained his methods of experimentation and sources of materials.

He spoke of good and evil, of sorrow and joy, the duality of it all, how one always followed the other in almost a cycle. It was obvious certain chemicals drove people mad, and others pacified them, was it really so impossible that there was some sort of solution that could eliminate the evil, the sorrow and darkness, permanently? 

Jekyll paced in front of the desk, gesturing with his hands and making sure he stayed on topic. When he began to explain the results, even bringing one of the mice out of the briefcase as proof, he saw the Board's eyes grow wide with a mix of alarm, surprise, and curiosity. 

There was no doubt about it, he was holding a passive, clean, London sewer rat in his hand, as easily as if it were a trained kitten.

This boosted Henry's confidence and he continued without falter until he heard the audible gasp that followed when he said: "As much as it pains me to say this, it is clear that there is no way to further my experiment without, a human test subject."

The Board exchanged concerned looks, Carew didn't move but to raise his eyebrows a little higher. Jekyll swallowed hard and continued, "With animals, it is only vaguely clear the change that is taking place, w-with a human I would be able to determine exactly  _ what  _ the serum is doing from a perspective that can communicate clearly."

"You're not sure what this serum really does?" asked the Nurse, confused and looking a little alarmed. "Yet, you want to try it on a person? What if it kills them?"

"Then I would take full responsibility for it," Henry stated clearly, despite knowing he would do everything in his power to prevent such a thing from happening or becoming known. 

"And what about St. Luke's?" asked the Investor, leaning forward on his hands. "What would become of  _ our  _ reputation if word got out that we gave up one of our patients, people who trusted us, to a dreamer to play around with salt chemicals, that could hypothetically kill someone?" Jekyll couldn't respond, his mind had become filled with a whirlwind of noise, fragmented thoughts that came out as stutters as he tried to say: "I, I would, you wouldn't be, responsible."

"But we would," the Investor continued, shrugging. "As far as I see it, your half-theory is treading dangerous ground and I, for one, don't want to see someone's death certificate because you have the idea that you can rewrite human nature."

"I agree," the Bishop said, folding his hands. "This, is immoral on it's own. And beyond that you are trying to play God by tampering with something you barely understand. If man were to have such the power to rewrite how one's mind functioned, tread carefully Dr. Jekyll."

"May I assume your votes are, 'no' then?" asked Sir Danvers, glancing over at them as they both rose as if to leave. There was a murmur of agreement before they left without another word to Jekyll, who watched them go with a shattered expression. 

"I, believe, that so long as the experiment is conducted ethically with the oversight of another doctor, this experiment could result in bettering the lives of many in the psychiatric ward," the Nurse said, looking uneasy but also curious.

"I know many who want to rewrite their pasts, their natures," the Genera agreed, staring wistfully at the rat perched obediently on Jekyll's shoulder. "Many who want to move on from what they've done but cannot, could this help?"

"I, I should, like to think so. It could, isolate the darkness that follows th-them, and hopefully eventually erase it," Henry stammered, wringing his hands. The General and the Nurse shared a look, a nod, and stood in unison.

"We both say, give him the opportunity," the General said with a firm nod to Sir Danvers. Carew nodded slowly, his eyes returning to stare at Henry. As the two of them left, Utterson spoke up as well. "I, if this were any situation but now, I would vote, but I feel as if I have to much bias in the proposal to make a wise judgement." 

Henry stiffened, of course Gabriel would play neutral, he always did. How could he be someone to rely on if he didn't bother to take a stand when it mattered?

"That leaves me to decide then," Carew mused. He thought for a moment, stood, and picked up his cane from where he'd set it against the table. "Doctor Henry Jekyll, a name I have heard far too many times." He stood there for a moment in thought, then turned, walking slowly towards the door. Jekyll watched him go, words building at the tip of his tongue but not one of them speaking out. "I'm afraid, doctor, that your experiments will have to be halted. I cast my vote as 'no'. Perhaps, before you request a human test subject, consider the morality of your experiment first. And, of course, your own sanity in the matter."

And with that, Sir Danvers Carew left.

Henry stood there, frozen and staring at the doorway. 

How dare he, how  _ dare he?  _ That stubborn old fool stood in the way of such progress, and the morality of it was an excuse. People died in the psychiatric wing, put there by family who didn't want to deal with rebellious daughters and emotional sons, innocent and sane only to be driven mad by their treatment. Why could they not spare one to be saved?

If they cared so little, why could one not be taken out?

"Henry?" Instantly, the red vanished from Jekyll's vision and he felt himself go slack, his hands relaxing from the fists they'd become. He blinked, then pulled away from Gabriel, turning to swiftly gather his things. The friendly rat on his shoulder scampered onto the table and looked up at him intelligently, curiously, only to be ignored at Jekyll snapped his case close and left in a hurry.

Utterson picked up the rat and hurried after, "Henry! Henry wait!"

"For what?" snapped Jekyll, glaring at the lawyer as he fell in step beside. 

"You forgot something," Gabriel said, holding up the tiny test subject. Jekyll sighed dejectedly and looked down the hall, "Doesn't matter, none of it does. I can't continue without a subject that can communicate the effects of the serum!"

"You should've started with that," Utterson said, frowning. Henry groaned, "What does it matter! In their eyes I'm a deluded chemist, it matters not what I say, they won't listen,  _ he  _ won't listen. And yet, yet I will continue."

"What? Are you going to body snatch someone off the street and-"

"No no no, with the chemicals themselves, the animals are useless now," Jekyll snapped. Utterson couldn't know the plan that was already forming. "Gabriel, I am so close. Soon, soon I will know how to free myself of these shackles, to help others and-"

"So this isn't about shaping humanity?" 

Jekyll hesitated and sighed deeply, "I, it is now, moreso than before. My own selfishness blinded me into thinking I was ready, it is clear I am not. But, I am confident, that if I can rid myself of my own madness, why could I not rid others of their violent ways? Of cruelty and strife?" And make it a lot easier to get things done, he added silently. "Think, think of the possibilities!"

"I think you are forgetting that people are not so easily convinced of what they haven't seen," Gabriel said, shrugging. The two stopped, the doors of the hospital behind them. Again, Utterson offered Jekyll his test rat and again the doctor refused to take it. "I shall set them all free, it doesn't matter anymore, I don't care."

Utterson frowned, "If you care so little for anything of your own creation, would you at least come by my home tonight that Lanyon and I might try our best to make things more bearable?" Jekyll met his gaze, shrugged halfheartedly, and left the hospital of St. Luke's without another word.

~

That evening, after a pleasant dinner and conversation in the company of Utterson, his wife, and Lanyon, Jekyll hurriedly excused himself to leave, saying he had work to do. A lie, of course, but he couldn't stand to be there any longer. The more time he wasted with pleasantries and drinks, the more of the evening slipped away, the less time there was to put the new plan into action.

He had to act soon, before someone stopped him,

As he was gathering his coat to leave, someone tapped his shoulder.

"Tell me old friend, are you feeling well?" asked Hastie Jacob Lanyon with a smile. Lanyon was but a year younger than Jekyll, they'd gone to university together and become good friends after graduation. He was a charmer, with a steady moral compass, a logical mind, and a gentle face that never seemed to stop smiling. His hair was light and his skin looked eternally sun tanned, and as he spoke to Jekyll, he donned that old blue scarf that he never seemed to be without.

"I am not well Jacob, you know this of me," Henry answered, putting his top hat and reaching for the door.

"Then it would be best for one to walk you home," Jacob said with an honest smile, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Simply to make sure nothing happens, you understand."

"I understand your concern for me, after my idiotic actions in the past. But you need not treat me like a child," Jekyll said, pulling free and opening the door. He strode out and Lanyon rolled his eyes, following swiftly. "Now is that any way to say goodbye?"

"I wasn't saying goodbye."

"And therefore I will accompany you home," Lanyon declared, falling into step beside his friend. "Gabriel told me of what happened today, awful rotten luck that Carew was the one who ended up deciding."

"Rotten luck, it was his job," Jekyll said somberly, putting his hands in his pockets. "It never would've worked, I should've known. Human test subjects are immoral and I don't have enough research to justify."

"Additionally you sound like a dreamer when you talk about it," Lanyon said with a smirk. "It's far fetched, grandiose, and you don't have a perfectly sane track record."

"You know I have always been sane Lanyon," Henry said. His shoulder slumped, "Again Carew foils me, it's absurd! It's, almost, no."

"Like he's turned everything against you?" Jacob asked, raising a brow curiously. "He's a gentleman and an arse, we know this and we can't do anything. You must let these things go Henry, they'll eat you alive!"

"Says the man who took the rats for pets."

"You turned them into mice, or so you claim. Impossible given I have no idea what or how could do that, but i mean, they were sweet."

They walked in silence for a while, Lanyon looking about them and Jekyll watching his shoes as they strolled down the wet sidewalk. A cold breeze was already rolling in and the sun had only just set, in not long it would be very cold. Jekyll's plan rolled around in his head, ideas and concerns mixing in a cocktail of possibility. If it all went well, it wouldn't matter what had happened earlier today.

"So, how's the shop doing?" Lanyon asked, eager to break the silence. Jekyll thought for a moment, recalling recent letters with the woman who now ran the place, "It's doing well, business is still good as it's incredibly expensive to afford, well, any professional care. Having someone who, knows the work, knows medicine, is useful for people."

"You still haven't gone back to deal with your mother's things?"

"I've told you, my mother's things went with her to Carew's. I cannot get them." Henry sighed and folded his arms, "I only got the violin back because mother specified that it was mine."

"You miss her," Jacob said, reaching out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Jekyll shrugged him off, "Of course I do! What do you take me for? I never even saw her before she died. I-" he faltered, "I could've done something."

"No, you couldn't have. Not even us doctors can save everyone," Jacob sighed, looking above them to the cloudy skies. "You really must try to fight this melancholy Henry, move on from these things, they only serve to anchor you in the past." 

"I've tried," Henry said, sighing and adjusting his glasses absentmindedly. Lanyon frowned, "With chemicals yes, but you let the memories walk over you like some sort of behemoth and refuse to fight."

"It's impossible to fight!" Jekyll snapped suddenly, turning and glaring at Lanyon. "I, have, tried. It's, like walking with the weight of the world on your shoulders threatening to crush you. It's, it's deep and constant and I can only keep going until it lifts and I'm free for a while. I, I'm just so tired."

Jacob sighed, familiar to these protests and speeches. He pat Jekyll's shoulder, "It'll pass, like it always has. I was trying to be optimistic."

"It didn't work," Jekyll countered, rolling his eyes. 

"Then here's something that's pessemistic, your experiment didn't fly today because it's absurd," Lanyon said, nodding. Jekyll sighed, "You're right, I know you are, but I have to continue."

"No, you don't. The Board had valid reasons for what they said, you don't even know what happens if you stop treatment." Lanyon shrugged dramatically, "You don't even have the side effects and withdrawal symptoms, both of which could kill someone, or you!"

"Back with this."

"It's a valid concern with you remember?" 

"Vividly."

Henry stopped walking and turned, mounting the steps to one of the houses, his own. Lanyon stood on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching with a small frown as his friend unlocked the door. Henry hesitated before going in, the words of his plan on the tip of his tongue. They dissolved as he turned, "Goodbye, Dr. Lanyon."

"Goodnight, Dr. Jekyll," Lanyon replied, nodding formally.


	3. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted August 06 2017

September 27th

Yesterday they rejected my proposal. Or rather, Sir Danvers Carew did, but in all my time knowing the old git, he has never liked me. Gabriel abstained from the vote, claiming bias, though with it I could be continuing my experiments without having halted and spending the last twelve hours putting on a show for everyone.

A good friend of course, Utterson insisted I take drinks with him and Lanyon last night, the resulting hangover was little more than a mild headache. This morning, I left the dog with Gabriel, to his and his wife's delight, while Lanyon seemed interested in taking the mice so I sent Poole to his home to deliver them. I know he will care for them better than I have.

One of them escaped, Poole found it and is keeping it in her room as a pet. I wish she wouldn't, but I don't have the heart to force her to get rid of it. 

Regardless of the Board's verdicts, such a momentous experiment cannot be so easily halted. True peace, happiness, a life free of this curse is so close at hand. But how is one to truly test medicine without a human test subject? I could never use Violet, Jacob or Gabriel, for this is not their struggle and I know there will come a time when I will need them desperately. My actions now determine if they will be there or me or not.

This is not their fight, and it will remain that way.

I intend to try the serum on myself and keep careful notes, no change will go undocumented.

~

Jekyll stared at the ink still drying on the page before him, slowly sitting back into the chair at his desk. To his right, the empty rat cage and dog cage stared at him, as if populated by the ghosts of their inhabitants that now had homes with his friends. What use had he to keep them now that they were without change and without purpose?

His hand shaking, Henry set his pen aside and removed his glasses. Pressing his palms into his eyes, he took a steadying breath and sat up a little straighter. This was what he wanted, wasn't it?

No way of truly knowing until he tried.

Jekyll folded his glasses and set them beside the pen, a yawn tugging at the back of the throat. Outside the sun was long set and the sound of a whistling teakettle screamed from downstairs. Ms Poole couldn't be here when he started the experiment, lest he do something foolish or dangerous. 

So he waited, staring at the paper before him and listening to the housekeeper walk on the floor below. The stairs creaked as she climbed to the second story. A pause outside the door as she noticed the letter addressed for her on the small table beside the door to the small laboratory. The table squeaked as a weight was put on it, tearing paper and a gasp of excitement. Hesitation, the sound of the weight being lifted from the table, then running footsteps as she ran downstairs to her room to get ready.

Henry sighed with a smile, hoping sincerely that she enjoyed the play he'd bought her tickets for. It'd give him the evening at least, plenty of time to ruin his life without disturbing Violet. Certainly, if anything went wrong he'd be dead, or likely comatose, by the time she returned.

Sudden and inevitable death was not an unfamiliar concept to Jekyll, he'd entertained the idea more often than was considered healthy already. He'd already spent the day writing a score of letters to sort everything out in case this moronic idea got him killed in the process.

It explained who was to sort out his scrap of a will, Utterson of course; who was to continue or destroy his research, Lanyon would make a wise decision; and who would receive the house and its contents, Poole deserved it after so many years of service. The letters squared everything away so nicely, it almost seemed easier to die tonight.

Merely, drink the wrong solution.

Henry shook his head vigorously, forcing the nightmarish ideations out of his mind. No, he would live, if not for himself then for others. Their praise, admiration, friendship, it was all that made life worth living when this darkness returned as it so often did. And, if this ridiculous plan worked, they would not be the only ones who admired him.

A solemn smile tugged itself onto Jekyll's face, that was reason enough to pray this serum worked. He reached across his desk to a small, wooden test tube rack containing multiple vials of red liquid. He pulled one free and let the small glass container rest in his palm, the light bouncing through it making the scarred skin of his hand look bloodied.

How ironic.

The small cork sealing the vial shut was pulled free and replaced with a tiny metal funnel. Down it's chute was poured a steady stream of strange white crystals from a paper packet, the strange mineral salt that had begun all of this. It dropped into the red solution and began to change it from a deep red, to a watery violet, and finally it became nearly iridescent teal color.

Was he really going to do this? 

Downstairs, the front door shut with a  _ slam!  _ Poole was out for the evening, it was now or never.

Henry nodded firmly to himself, pulled out the funnel and closed his eyes tight. In a swift motion, his hands shaking, he swallowed the draught in one drink.

The taste made him gag, like salt water mixed with a bitter chalky medicine. Henry dropped the phial and it clattered to the table, he covered his mouth to keep from retching and coughed hard. It burned like a strong whiskey all the way down his throat, but despite the discomfort, he reached for the pen.

He had to get this down, the experiment could not be for naught!

~

10:46 PM

I have taken 10 cL of the serum, labelled HJ7. The taste is repulsive, like ocean water and bile but with an unexpected heat like some strong alcohol. No immediate changes besides nausea and the sensation of fire in my chest.

Swiftly following the consumption of the serum, the heat in my chest has become something more akin to a tingling sensation.

11:01 PM

A feeling of weightlessness has replaced the discomfort, accompanied by a sort for free sensation similar to intoxication. Hands shaking quite a lot, some sort of sore pain accumulating in my joints.

In the mice, the serum took effect after five minutes, ten for the dog. Yet I feel nothing yet.

When?

~

Henry set the pen aside and turned to pace the room, subconsciously folding his glasses and tucking them away. The room became a bit of a blur without them, but he hardly noticed over the racing speed of his thoughts, each melting into the next in a fuzzy, terrified blur.

When? How much longer? Would it even work on him? Would it hurt?

He deserved to hurt for being such a selfish prick.

Jekyll grabbed his head, pressing his palms into his temples, overcome by sudden, violent shudders. Nothing more than the melancholy, nothing more. He paced faster, his footsteps thundering in the tiny room. Desperately he tried to think of anything else but the looming sense of doom, god if Lanyon could see him right now.

How right he had been, this damn experiment was going to get him killed.

A sharp icy pain shot up Jekyll's spine and he dropped to his knees, paralyzed. Of course Lanyon had been right, but who did Doctor Henry Jekyll listen to but himself? He'd been right before, during school with their work, and he was right now.

Henry Jekyll was going to die.

The sharp pain became an ache that spread through his bones, stretching into his ribs and arms like frost. The blood pounded in his ears and Henry curled in on himself, one hand pressed into his face as his eyes remained locked on the floor, the other holding his abdomen as if his intestines were going to fall out should he let go. Why hadn't he listened? The Board had their reasons, they had been justified!

Carew, damn him, had been right.

The ache became fire and Jekyll went limp, falling to the side as his thoughts became consumed by the burning in his bones. A scream was bubbling in his throat and desperately he wanted to scream, but something soft was in his mouth and he bit down hard to force his own silence as a dull throb began to pound in his skull.

A sharp pain in his hand, clear and crisp.

"OW!" 

He pulled his hand from his mouth, spitting blood from his lips and tasting iron on his tongue. Henry blinked, his vision focusing slightly as the pain began to fade as swiftly as it had set in. He squinted at his hand, counting the square cuts that now split the skin around his left thumb where he'd bitten down. Blood was leaking from the bite wound and dribbling down his wrist, around the other scars.

With a deep sigh, he let himself relax completely and lay on the floor, rolling onto his back and spreading his arms on either side, just breathing. It was a long moment before he realized how clear his mind had become all of a sudden, not even the slightest shadow of the darkness from before. He felt energized, as if he could go for a run to Lanyon's home and back, just for the hell of it!

Henry stared at the ceiling, his brow furrowing in confusion, he didn't  _ feel _ particularly different, violent or otherwise. His vision was still as blurry as before, so no change there. He lifted his hands and inspected them, counting the scars on his fingers, palms, and wrists before attempting to wipe some of the blood from his left wrist.

Then he noticed how his shirt had slipped from his thin wrists to his elbows, it had fit quite perfectly before. Slowly, Jekyll sat up and looked at himself, a sparkle of fascination bubbling in his mind. His clothes, that had clearly fit him before, were loose and slipping now, a size too large. Something thin and light colored fell past his face, and upon inspection, he found it was hair.

Hair?

A grin tugged at his mouth as he got to his feet, stumbling across the mirror to the mirror near the door, dizziness suddenly returning to his mind and vision.

He gripped the edge of the mirror and squinted at the reflection, his missing glasses making it difficult to see. The man who stared back was  _ not  _ Henry Jekyll.

The man who looked back had wild purple-blue eyes with very dark circles beneath, Jekyll's eyes had been an almost golden hazel. Long, wild hair fell to his shoulders, the color of corn silk, and his clothes hung like a scarecrow's on the man's thin, shorter frame. Slowly, he stood straight, watching an unfamiliar, genuine smile spread across his face, crooked and mischievious. He squared his shoulders, folded his arms and stuck his nose in the air, eyes not leaving the reflection as he stroked the small, sudden goatee on his chin.

A laugh bubbled up in him and he giggled like a child, how different his laugh sounded too! Deeper, raspier, and undeniably more dangerous. He cleared his throat and said: "Hello! I am  _ not  _ Henry Jekyll, am I?" This again brought a laugh from the man and he covered his smile with both hands.

He felt free, happy, as if some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Somewhere in his chest, the old melancholy still ached, far quieter now than before, but still there. Jekyll, though this face was not his, remained.

The new face frowned at that thought, he could not run about using Henry Jekyll's name, how could there be two of them? People would not see him as Jekyll, a twin perhaps, but not the same man. He would need a name, a different one, to become someone completely new.

He thought hard for a new pseudonym, it had to be something he could easily hide behind.

Yes! Hyde! And his late father's name, Edward! Edward Hyde! Why not?

If he did not look or feel like Henry Jekyll, why bother pretending to still be "the good doctor"? There was a whole night ahead and, feeling like this, who knew what could happen! For the first time in ages, Henry Jekyll felt truly alive.

Or rather, Edward Hyde did.

Who was he kidding? In his mind and soul he was still Henry Jekyll, but the face before him and the sense of freedom were completely alien and strange. This new face, this second personality, was not another person, but rather a mask that Jekyll felt he'd disappeared behind.

Leaving this new man, Hyde, to do as he pleased. Within reason, of course, morals and ethics still existed. But certain ones did not apply when one was not a renowned gentleman. So perhaps-

A wide grin bloomed on the face of Edward Hyde and he let out a shout of joy, spinning once and running for the closet. Tonight would be his! Goodbye to the standards, the expectations and the rules! Those were for Jekyll, who he would not be tonight! No shining gentlemanly facade this evening! 

It was time to indulge, have fun, do things he'd never been able to do as Henry, to just be happy for a while.

When he woke in the morning with more sense about him,  _ then  _ he'd worry about chemistry and notes. But he was going to live before this feeling of freedom was taken from him, he was going to  _ live.  _


	4. A Night To Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted May 20 2017

Hyde stepped out onto the street not much later, and realized that something had changed. The newly dubbed Edward Hyde- dressed as neatly as possible in clothes a size too large, missing Jekyll's worn black gloves for he cared not about the scars on his hands- had to pause on the steps and stare. Everything, though fuzzied by imperfect vision, seemed to be shining.

The tiles of the rooftops glittered with rain water and moonlight, fog swirled along the street in wisps and tails, the sound of rattling cabs echoed from beyond the street with the clamber of voices. A hum of chaotic energy that permeated the night, quiet enough to be missed, yet still loud enough to be heard. All ordinary, incredibly so, and suddenly so beautiful and real. Edward leaned against the door frame, allowing himself to stare at the beauty of this evening.

A beat passed and he stood, grinned excitedly and leaped from the steps, taking off at a sprint down the nearly silent street. His hands flew out on either side, he carried nothing but himself tonight. God it felt so good to just run, to feel his heart beat and his feet pound against the cobblestones, cape flying behind like a dark pair of wings.

He felt like a child again!

He skid to a stop, breathing heavily, eyes darting around in awe and curiosity. They drifted up, to the rooftops of the houses around him, slick with rain water. All his life he'd wanted to explore, see the city from such a vantage, why not tonight? Hyde's grin widened and he ran for the alley, effortlessly climbing a rickety drainpipe and pulling himself onto the steeped roof of the house. With steady footing, he climbed to the top, sat, and looked out over his street with a smile.

This felt incredible! Every moment unique and entirely worth it and-

Edward sighed deeply and looked up at the sky, watching the smoke from this house's chimney swirl past him. After a silent moment he stood and strolled along the peak of the roof, arms spread out on either side of him for balance as he walks. At the edge of the roof he paused, looking out over the alley before him to the slightly lower roof ahead.

Most of him was petrified, he couldn't make a jump like that!

But feeling like this, maybe he could. Hyde grinned and stepped back a ways, running and leaping at the last second. His footing was sure and he landed gracefully on the next roof with only the slightest sound, until he laughed aloud and began to run again, leaping atop the next house without any hesitation.

This continued all the way down the street until he came upon a plaza, where there were no more roofs to jump to before a sharp drop to the pavement. Here, Edward sat at the edge of the roof, breathing heavily and grinning happily. 

Here, he paused to consider himself. If he was indeed half of Henry, the serum induced personality, shouldn't he be more violent and aggressive in a way like the rats and dog were? In his current state, he did not feel any urges to actively seek out aggression, rather he simply felt alive and-

Edward's thoughts stopped as realization came to him. A will to live, strength and energy that wasn't followed with the insane drive of manic inspiration, he was the mirror of his ordinary self. Lively and graceful, things Henry Jekyll was not, yet driven and gentlemanly, things he was known well for being. Where did Jekyll end and where did Hyde begin? 

They were one in the same were they not? Jekyll was merely acting without his gentlemanly melancholic facade. Did that make Hyde the true self? And Jekyll the one to be erased or smothered? At this, Hyde laughed aloud and gestured with his hands as if addressing a crowd, "It matters not! Hyde is for tonight only!" 

Someone below, clearly drunk, shouted back: "Here here!"

Surprised, Edward leaned forward and squinted to look into the street below where a well dressed man was walking along the sidewalk, swaying heavily from side to side and singing softly to himself. Behind him, a familiar tavern spilled golden light into the street, drunken laughter and music echoed out into the plaza with the sounds of the night, accompanied by the pungent smell of smoke. Two ladies, young and beautiful, stood outside the building talking, occasionally calling out to a passerby or rattling cab.

Silent as a shadow, curiosity blooming in his mind, Edward slipped away from the edge of the roof, sliding down a drainpipe into a dark alley beside. He peered out into the plaza, a childish fear nagging at his mind, looking again to the lovely ladies before bolstering his courage and striding across the plaza towards them.

One of them, small and petite with dark hair and shockingly red lips called to him: "Oi love! Cold night tonight ain't it?" She winked at him, "Don't suppose you'd mind me keepin' you company would ya?" 

To even his own surprise, Hyde answered: "I wouldn't mind at all dear, but I'm afraid I have a whole night ahead of me. But-" he pulled a few stray coins from a pocket in his coat, tossing them to the lady, "Consider me considering." He winked back at her and strode into the tavern, snickering childishly to himself.

As Jekyll, he would've never even spoken to a painted lady like those to, lest someone assume the worst of him. Yet, as Hyde, he felt a freedom of the heart and mind, unfamiliar but undeniably wonderful. Whatever inhibitions Henry had made to protect his reputation were gone now, be it from the intoxicating effects of the serum or the freedom of the soul brought by wearing another man's face, that would be for Henry to decide later.

The tavern was loud, rowdy, and smelled thickly of smoke. The people who sat at the tables looked tired, messy, and happy. Some sang drunkenly on the shoulders of friends, some flirted with the scantily dressed women at the neighboring table, some played cards, some cheated at cards, and one was passed out on the bar. He snored loudly as Hyde strode up, chuckling at the drunk man's misfortune.

The bartender was a heavier set man, with lighter brown hair that was almost auburn, streaked with grey. He had a mustache like a tiny brush and wore a dirtied apron over a clean shirt and trousers. He looked like a surprisingly respectable gentleman, for running a tavern so clearly full of less savory folks.

He raised an eyebrow as Hyde leaned on the bar, "Say, do I know you fella?"

"I shouldn't think so," Edward said smoothly, tilting his head to the gentleman. "This is, after all, my first time in London."

"Right, well, what c'n I get ya then?"

"Uh, surprise me!" Surprise me? Surprise me! He'd said that! The bartender smirked and shrugged, "Suit yerself."

Edward couldn't stop his grin now, as he turned to look at the people in the tavern, this was all so interesting! A window into a simpler life, one without all the restrictions that money and reputation brought, everyone here was so happy! Perhaps that was the answer, that as Hyde he simply did not have the responsibility that so often depressed him, and that he didn't care for it. 

"Now, I'm certain I've seen ya somewhere," the bartender said, placing a small drink in front of Hyde. Edward shrugged as he took the glass, "I've gotten that a lot this evening, seems there is someone here who looks like me. But I know for a fact, I have never visited this tavern before."

"Nah, it's from somewhere else." The bartender frowned, shrugged, then offered his hand. "Anyway, bein' it's yer first time here, welcome to the Mountain. I'm Andy an' I run the place, my wife 'andles the Flower Girls."

"A pleasure," Hyde answered, shaking his hand. "And, Flower Girls?"

"Did ya see the two out front?" asked Andy, smirking and nodding towards the door. Edward raised an eyebrow, his smile becoming a smirk, "That so? I'm guessin' you got rooms upstairs 'n everything?"

"Of course! What good inn wouldn't?" Andy chuckled, "I say this, cuz you look like a man who knows what 'e wants, but considerin' you don't know much 'bout London, I'd suggest you stick 'round here."

"What reason would I have to stick around this place when there's a whole city full of sin to explore?" Edward asked, leaning on the bar. Andy seemed taken aback, surprised by his customer's bluntness. He frowned, "Well, fer one, yer less likely to get pickpocketed 'ere, an' our girls are known fer keepin' secrets."

"Keeping secrets?"

"Aye. We consider it, leverage."

"I understand the sentiment," Hyde said with a chuckle, finally taking a sip of the drink Andy had made for him. The strength of the drink made it hard to swallow, and he coughed after nearly choking on it. The bartender laughed aloud, "Too strong for ya then? Sorry 'bout that, but ya asked for it."

"That I did," Edward said with a growl, coughing again. He cleared his throat and grinned sarcastically at the bartender, " _ Thanks. _ "

"You're, welcome," Andy said with a smug grin, turning to talk to another that had come to stand by the bar. Edward steeled himself and tried another drink of the small glass, this time finding it easier to swallow and the burn of the alcohol more pleasant. 

Someone stepped up to the bar beside him and waved Andy over, handing him what sounded like a small bag of coins. "Here's what Rosie and I managed tonight. She's about to start reciting Shakespeare she's so drunk, I figured we'd call it a night." Andy inspected the contents of the bag, "Nice job, actually. This'll make up for what you missed last week?"

"What I missed?" the woman snapped. "Andy, we got  _ robbed  _ last week. The guy knocked me out and then stole my everything. I had to use what he paid me to buy a new corset."

"Alright alright," Andy said, holding up his hands in defense before turning and going. The woman sighed and leaned heavily against the counter, glancing at Hyde who had been staring at the exchange with a mildly interested expression.

She was no doubt one of the Flower Girls, for over a pink dress that barely covered her shoulders she wore a silver shawl embroidered with lilies and lily pads. A similar pin held her wildly curly dark hair up in a bun, a similar necklace hung at her throat. Her eyes were a deep brown and her face dark, but soft and strong.

She was also at least a head taller than Hyde. 

When she noticed him staring she said: "What do you want shortie?"

"Oh nothing, I apologize for staring," he said with a smug smile. "You're one of the Flower Girls?"

"Lilly," she said, scowling. "But I don't know if you just heard, I'm through for tonight."

"Indeed I heard you, but say some gentleman was willing to pay whatever price you ask to enjoy your time for a while?" Inside, he was laughing in a childish and moderately insane manner, what was he doing? Honest to God what was he doing?

A man of his status and stature would normally not associate with such sultry folks, but now he did not care! A night of truly enjoying himself, why not? Why not!

Lilly raised an eyebrow and leaned on the bar, "Is that so? Even if I were to charge you ten pounds a half hour?"

"Then I guess we'd only enjoy each other's company for an hour," Hyde answered, resting his head on his hands and his elbows on the bar. 

"Twenty pounds a half hour?"

"Only half hour then, I suppose. But it is time nonetheless." Lilly did not smile, but she nodded slowly. She turned and walked outside, dragging her drunken friend in by the elbow and setting her at the bar. 

"Lilly! I'm fine, we've still got time," she groaned, flopping on the counter. Lilly pulled over a chair and sat her down, "Easy Rosie, you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Rosie mumbled, pressing her face on the counter. She grinned drunkenly at Hyde, "Heeeeeey, I know yoooou."

"No you don't," Hyde said, snickering at her. He pat her on the head, "There there darling, perhaps we'll meet when you're more sober."

"But yer right heeeere," she groaned. Hyde laughed, only to stop when Lilly placed her hand on his shoulder, "You'll pay anything I want huh?"

"Yes ma'am, anything to spend a little time with a lovely lady like yourself." He smiled flirtateously at her and raised a brow. Lilly seemed to consider it a moment, "Well then, shall we?"


	5. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted June 02 2017

Just breathe, he thought.

It was morning, it was hot, and Henry Jekyll wanted to throw up.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his head swimming. Slowly, feeling like he was weighed down by anchors, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, sighing heavily. The memories of the night before, vivid, colorful, and passionate, swirled through his mind like a whirlwind. His hair was short and dark again, the bruise like shadows under his eyes had vanished, and once again Henry found that his clothes fit properly. 

A dull ache was throbbing in his head and in his bones, one the sign of regret and horrible things to come, the other a clear symptom of a hangover. 

A knock at the door again and it opened, "Sir? Are you awake? It is nearly eight and breakfast is ready." Henry looked up, squinting into the morning light as Ms. Poole looked around the door at him, "Oh good, you are here. When you returned late in the night, I thought it was a burglar and nearly attacked you."

_ I wish you had, _ Jekyll thought as he rubbed his neck. "I, should've left a note, I had forgotten to tell you when I would return. I was called away on business, something urgent." He didn't notice Ms. Poole's face go scarlet.

"I-it is not my business to pry," Poole said, smiling awkwardly. "Would you like me to bring you breakfast or-?"

"No no I will be down shortly," he answered, waving a hand dismissively and reaching for his glasses. "Thank you Violet."

"O-of course sir!" she said, hurrying out of the room. He slipped on his glasses and watched her go, frowning in confusion. Only then did he realize that his nightshirt was completely open and he wasn't wearing trousers, his own face went hot with embarrassment. How ridiculous! She must think he'd lied to her face about his actions the night before!

And while he had, Violet had no need to know that. He must apologize when he joined her for breakfast.

With his face bright red, Jekyll set about readying himself, taking note that his room seemed to be slightly dissheveled and there was a mysterious ache in his neck. The notes he'd written before passing out were noticeably intoxicated, but still clear and scientific; he found himself chuckling at them before putting the notebook away. He thought over the night before, and in remembering some of his ruder and more scandalous actions, he cursed himself for being foolish and irrational.

Henry dressed in a clean shirt and trousers, making sure both were buttoned completely, when he realized something. He wasn't completely and utterly exhausted beyond the hangover of the night before, which was something surprising since his mental state still seemed covered by the gloom of the days before. Certainly an effect of the serum, for he'd never felt this, well rested while in a melancholic slump before. In fact, if it weren't for the constant self-deprecating thoughts and numb feeling in his chest, Jekyll would almost believe himself to be wholly normal.

He glanced at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall and frowned, his own reflection stared back with only the barest traces of Hyde. The only things that remained from the night before was some half-tied bandages around the bite on his hand, a bruise forming on his neck, and the scruff of a half-grown goatee. So perfect was the transformation that the two could be wholly separate, yet the same.

Without another thought to the night before, setting it aside to be considered at a time when he wasn't being waited on by so patient a friend, Jekyll hurried out of the room and jogged downstairs to the small dining room. A few letters were sitting, unopened on the table, and sitting with them was Hastie Lanyon. Henry stopped short, "I, Jacob? What, what are you doing here?"

Lanyon looked up from his tea and smiled, he seemed incredibly relieved. "You didn't look well last night I, I came by to see you were alright. You, don't have the best record of making smart decisions, so I came by early this morning."

"I do hope I haven't kept you then," Henry said, frowning. Lanyon shrugged, "When I arrived Miss Poole greeted me, we've been chatting. She's quite kind to make breakfast for me when you were not even awake yet." He frowned, "What, are you alright?"

Henry looked at his hand, "I? Oh yes I'm fine, accidentally cut myself with some broken glass last night."

"I was referring to the bruising," Lanyon said, smirking. Jekyll swallowed hard and shrugged, "I, honestly don't remember. Given the state of my room, I feel as if I must've been sleep walking or something similar because I honestly don't recall where I got it."  _ It had been when Lilly- and he- not the time!  _ He grinned awkwardly, "I appreciate knowing you care for me so deeply Lanyon."

Jacob snorted, shaking his head as Jekyll took a seat at the small dining room table beside him. "Of course! You are a dear friend of mine, you look as if you've been working non stop for all night! And, given your past of destructive habits, can you blame me for being concerned?"

"No I cannot," Henry said, shrugging solemnly.  _ How worried would he be if I shared news of the results? No, I'd best keep them to myself, lest he misunderstand me.  _

__ If he were to describe that night, to Lanyon, to Poole, they'd believe him mad! They'd believe he'd taken some sort of drug and gone on a wild run while intoxicated, they wouldn't understand the pure freedom he'd felt because of it. They wouldn't, couldn't understand, not right now, not when he understood so little of it himself.

They spoke over breakfast of small things, none of it felt real though. Henry watched everything from behind the lenses of his glasses, as if they walled him off from the rest of the world. His mind was pulled away time and time again by the events of the night before, the feelings of freedom, the running, the excruciating pain and unforgettable pleasure, all of it was followed by the same thought.

He had to try again, didn't he?

If not for the experiment, he just  _ wanted  _ to.

No, no no no, that thought alone was enough to drive the whole experiment to the ground! His desire to feel that freedom again was already far to akin to an addiction to be safe. If he tried it again, so soon, he foresaw a spiral downwards into being consumed by the serum and permanently slipping into his more impulsive side. As freeing as it was, that was not the goal of the experiment was it?

The goal was to rid himself of melancholy, and getting addicted to a transformative serum was not going to help him in any way. What Jekyll needed to do was wait some time until he was certain his body was free of the powerful serum to see if there were any kinds of drawbacks or side affects from it. One could not hope to make a successful medicine if it killed whoever took it now could they?

What if he slipped away completely after only one dose?

Regardless, he'd also have to sort through his drunken notes from the night before and make sure there wasn't something vital he'd forgotten in the hangover sleep. 

"What do you say Henry?" He blinked and looked up in surprise, "Sorry, come again?"

Lanyon laughed, "I simply said, I'm sure there's something we could do to resume your experiments that doesn't require, you know, as much magic minerals and human testing. Have you any ideas?"

"I've, discontinued the project actually," Henry lied, shrugging slightly. One more lie, what difference could it make? "The Board had a point to their denials." They couldn't know anyway, not yet. "So, I'm going to see if there's something else my discoveries could be good for." Like some kind of drug probably.

Jekyll shook his head, "Nevertheless, I don't doubt you'll be seeing more of me. This new path is, vague and open, I intend to take my time with it."

"And you have the funds?"

"Plenty saved from over the years. And I don't intend to sell the shop anytime soon, so as long as they remain in business, I should be fine." Henry shrugged, "I do wish there was a way to be more than one place at once, as if you could be two people."

"I should think that would be even more chaotic than being one person," Lanyon added with knowing smile. 

"Indeed, the world does not need a second Henry Jekyll." Nor would it ever want one.

~

**September 28th**

This is a new, strange sensation.

While the shadow of melancholy has not left me, for I remain numb and emotionally exhausted, I have a new surplus of physical energy that I recall lacking before. My second personality is impulsive and reckless, there is nearly enough difference for us to be considered two individuals. However, I was still aware of myself and my identity while under the influence of the serum, leading me to believe that it was simply the change of face and energy that lead to my actions.

It was as if I was wearing a mask of some sort, for I was still myself, but without the responsibilities and respect that is so required of Henry Jekyll. Edward Hyde was free to be whoever and do whatever he pleased, for he has no reputation to protect and no loyalties to guard.

He can do what he likes, and through his mask, so may I. 

What I write implies that Hyde is an entity of his own, but he is not, he is myself through and through, despite how different he seems. As him, as that persona, I was not afraid to go without my gloves, something I have not done for more than eight years, or my glasses which was just a moronic decision.

In any case, my behavior was far less than gentlemanly and would be the start of gossip that would cause me quite a problem.

Due to this, it will be some time before I try the serum again. This is to both see if there is some sort of side effect from not using the serum after the first dose and to see just how addictive it is. This, could also be a test of my own will power which, if the past is an judge, has never been something to admire.

I am concerned that as this experiment progresses, I will lose control of it and do something unwise while under the influence of the serum. Of course, no study is without some degree of risk, and it is a risk I take willingly in the name of science.

I also must remember to shave afterwards next time. For some reason, while the serum was in effect, the hair atop my head grew at an accelerated rate and even a small beard sprouted on my chin. However, when I woke as Henry Jekyll again, my hair had returned to an ordinary length and color while the facial hair did not.

Very curious.


	6. Lilly's Purse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted July 14, 2017

Surnames weren't important for a Flower Girl, but for anyone else it was somehow one's whole life story documented in one word. Upon hearing it, someone could assume they had a clue as to if you're worth caring about or not even worth the dirt you stand on. Lilly had no surname, her mother had been a Flower Girl and died in childbirth, leaving infant Lillian in the hands of the other Girls and Miss C.

Lilly had grown up without a care for surnames or facades, she was as she was and her work was nothing more than work. Exhausting as it was more often than not, Lilly had found a way to enjoy it, her height and strength that rivaled most of the men she met made things interesting. A taller woman, with darker skin and a supposedly confident disposition, it was easy for her to fool her customers. That is, they paid thinking they'd be in charge until she proved them wrong behind closed doors.

Given her profession, Lilly never truly made an effort to remember the faces of her clients unless they came back more than once. One of them, not a regular who she'd met at the end of the night, had stuck with her for some reason. Messy hair, intelligent eyes that seemed perpetually squinted, clothes pinned shorter at the sleeves and cuffs of his pants, his smile was etched in her mind. What most intrigued her was the freedom about him that wasn't ordinary among his kind of folks. (His kind of folks being the stuck-up classy folks)

She hadn't expected to see him again, not when he seemed convinced he wouldn't be back either. Yet there he was, standing outside the tavern, talking with Rosie and wearing the same poorly fitted clothes as last time, his hair a wild mess. Her heart momentarily skipped in excitement, for she'd been thinking of him often, wanting answers as to who he was, but she forced the hopeful sensation down, knowing this was only business.

Again, his timing was poor, for Lilly was finished for the night. At one in the morning, things slowed to a crawl for everyone and even Andy closed up shop. The tavern was completely empty, Lilly stood alone at the bar.

Rosie had been still out there, waving at cabs and waiting impatiently for her last customer of the night. She usually had a harder time getting an evening's work in, being as small and as feisty as she was, her clients tended to push her around as they saw fit and walk out without paying. Most of her pay came from pick pocketing those same gentlemen before they even reached the room.

God help her if she got caught.

Lilly watched the two talking on the dark corner and raised an eyebrow as they linked arms and strolled into the tavern. Without his top hat, Hyde was just as tall as Rosie, and both were a head shorter than Lilly. They seemed almost a perfect fit for each other, at a glance of course.

"And I'm telling you, certain green dyes have arsenic in them and arsenic is deadly poisonous," Hyde was saying.

"Oh Lilly-bell! Your flirt has returned," Rosie joked, winking at her partner-in-crime as the two strolled up. Lilly rolled her eyes, "I can see that."

"I was wonderin' if you'd be back," Andy said, nodding to Hyde with a smile. "Shame you're so late or I'd offer you a drink. We're all closing up here, the ladies too."

"I figured as much," Edward said with a cool smile as he unlinked his arm from Rosie's. "I still wanted to see you lovely ladies and thank you, Lilly, for the wonderful time last week. I never got the chance before I had to leave so suddenly due to, unforseen circumstances." He scowled, but shrugged it off, "In any case, if I am indeed too late to partake, can a gentleman at least offer to walk you two home?"

"You're,was not going to try and bargain like last time?" asked Lilly, frowning. Inside, she was smiling, he remembered her! That was something not many clients did, they remembered the fun yes but not the lady who'd played with them.

Edward shrugged, "Part of me regretted my actions, I am spending my night a bit more frugally this time, there is much to do you know and limited time to do it! Though, I don't completely regret our evening."

"You paid, that's enough of a thank you." Lilly wanted to grin and thank him for returning, but she forced herself to be cool and professional despite her excitement.

"It's more than some gents are willin' to do," Rosie said stiffly, walking round the bar and pulling a pink coat from under it. She threw a larger green one to Lilly, who caught it deftly and pulled it on over her dress. "If you insist on walking home with us, I don't see why it could be a problem, regardless of how unnecessary it is."

"Lots of dangerous folks on the street," Hyde said with a smirk, "And who knows, it could be more pleasant than hanging around here waiting for more stuck up 'gentlemen' to show up and-"

"And you can stop there," Lilly said firmly. The reminder of tonight's more foul clients was enough to make her hopeful mood run screaming, she wanted nothing of it. Lilly sighed, "Fine, let's leave already."

Lilly took a bag from the bar and slung it over her shoulder, making sure to toss a small bag of coin to Andy, who was cleaning away. Without another word, the trio left into the chilly London night, talking casually of many less than savory topics. 

Almost instantly, Lilly noticed something about the man who called himself Mr. Hyde. He was curious, that much was clear, about both Rosie and Lilly, as well as the world they lived in. However, he didn't answer anything they asked him, he kept his information very close to his chest, brushing off questions as one brushes dust from their cloak or coat. He listened to Rosie grouse about her customers and met her stories with tales of equally irritating upper-class folk, so he was indeed a 'gentleman' it seemed.

The two got on like a wildfire, swapping stories and crude jokes between mocking each other and the people they didn't like with ruthless abandon while Lilly watched. She smiled a little, a rare sight, at Rosie having such a good time with someone who wasn't paying.

She was so enraptured by the story Rosie was telling, she didn't notice the man walking towards them until he shoved past her rather rudely, cussing at her for being in his way. Almost instantly Hyde turned on his heel and snapped back: "OI! Watch yer language! Yer in the presence of two very prestigious ladies, ya dense arse!"

Rosie giggled and Lilly rolled her eyes, reaching to check her bag. She felt fear strike in her chest as she found the bag empty, her coin purse gone completely. She looked at the hurrying stranger and scowled, "Damnit, that's the third purse this m-"

And suddenly Hyde was running after the guy. Lilly blinked in surprise, her expression going slack and brow furrowing in confusion as he watched him give chase. The stranger glanced back, froze for a second, then started running too.

"Now this is getting interesting," Rosie remarked, grinning at Lilly before tugging off her heeled shoes and running after. Lilly groaned loudly and did the same, watching Hyde's cloak flap behind him like a cape. 

He caught up to the more portly thief with easy and tackled him to the ground, ripping the coin purse from the stranger's hands and hurling it at Rosie. Rosie shrieked in surprise and barely managed to catch the small bag, Edward stood and dragged the stranger to his feet with seemingly little effort.

He glared at the stranger, "I oughta drag you to the constable right now for theft, or, better yet just deal with you myself, but considerin' I'm a little preoccupied, you c'n go." He let go of the man's vest and, without even a panicked word, the thief turned and ran, even faster, to get away. Hyde huffed and turned to Rosie, "I do hope the money is  _ actually  _ still in there. I don't savor the idea of chasing him,  _ again. _ "

Rosie checked the purse, "Yeah, I think." She handed it to Lilly, "That look right?"

Lilly nodded and took back her coin purse, sticking it back into her bag. After a moment's pause she said: "Thank you, Edward." He made a vague sound of answering, but was still glaring after the thief as he adjusted his cloak.

"No need to thank me, I was jus' doing what anyone should've," he said, looking back at Lilly. "Entitled pricks think that anyone's pocket is theirs to pick. I oughta throttled him." Rosie swallowed hard and Edward looked at her, only to snicker. "Well, for you it's different. That arse was fine, 'e didn't need to go stealing from you two, but he did anyway. You're just trying to get by, it's different."

"A true arse," Rosie agreed, nodding firmly. "Now, where were we?"

As they finished the walk to Lilly and Rosie's rickety house in Soho, that they shared with at least eight other Flower Girls, Lilly found herself watching Hyde a little more closely. She hadn't noticed it before, but there was energy behind his eyes, in his hand motions and in his speech. It wasn't the same energy that one has when excited, it seemed violent, as if he were on the verge of doing something drastic. His gestures were a little too sharp, his voice a little too loud, and his grins a little too forced to be good.

When she and Rosie said goodbye on the doorstep of their home, Mr. Hyde was polite enough. But as he walked away, Lilly thought she saw him ball his fists and his smile become a scowl.

What  _ was _ Mr. Hyde?

~

Anger, god it had been years since this kind of fury had burned in his chest.

Edward stormed down the empty and silent London street, his scarred hands clenched in fists and his teeth bared like some sort of animal.

What was it about what that man had done that infuriated him so? Was it because he'd taken from Lilly, someone to be considered a friend? Or was it because he, a man who clearly lived with some degree of comfort, had taken from someone who worked so hard to achieve it?

No it was far simpler than that, there was no justice seeking motive, that was only an excuse to go chase down the man and take back the purse. Something in him had been seeking the praise from Lilly and Rosie for getting it back, something wanted their admiration and it hadn't been satisfied. 

So the anger was not towards another, but to himself. He had not acted on their behalf, but on his own, so they would  _ like  _ him more. Stupid, selfish, foolish, god he sounded like Jekyll! Was that not the purpose of this second face? To get away from that persona that ached for the praise of others?

Why was it, when trying to be someone else, he still remained so much the same selfish person he'd been before?

Edward could bare it no longer, he let out a scream and grabbed at his hair, pulling hard in anger and scratching at the scalp until the rage and fear in his chest finally deflated. He took a steadying breath and grit his teeth, he could be anything,  _ anyone _ , and yet he was still Jekyll. That was the point, wasn't it?

To stay the same, selfish person.

Now with ordinary energy!

Hyde sighed deeply and continued walking, looking at the silent city around him. The silence, the mist, it melted his anger mostly, but he could feel it still hot in his chest, like a fire burned to embers. It would only take some fuel to reignite it, perhaps it was already time to head home.

He groaned loudly and stuffed his hands in his pockets, storming down the street. How rude! Jekyll's selfishness reared its ugly head and his whole night was ruined in self loathing!

Edward stopped midstep, standing up a little straighter.

Why waste his time hating himself? He already spent so long in his ordinary day despising himself, why not spend a little time not caring about what he did and how he acted? He took a deep breath and grinned, "Forget the hating, forget the despise, for once I'm going to just enjoy being me!"

He laughed at how silly and fake it sounded, but walked onward, now a tiny wistful smile on his face. If he was going to try and pretend to be something else, why not at least put forth the effort to be a little different? To be, better?

That's something he'd never admit while being Jekyll, that he needed to improve, but it was obvious wasn't it?

And now he had a chance to, so why not?


	7. Addiction Lanyon, Addiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted August 04, 2017

Henry Jekyll was pacing in Lanyon's parlor, opening and closing his glasses rapidly, an uncomfortable fidget reminiscent of the unsettling amount energy that he'd felt during the experiment. Mania certainly, yet it hadn't removed or replaced the shadow that still lingered in his mind, whispering of death and dark things. Only the exhaustion had changed, and it was a welcome one despite this energy being funneled through dark and dismal thoughts. 

Jekyll put his glasses on and began to wring his hands, feeling his gloves rub over his palms and the scars on his fingertips. It still stunned him that he had not been scared to wear these as Edward, he hadn't been afraid of anything really. His anxiety from people seeing the telltale scars vanished completely and they became part of Hyde's persona as opposed to a mark of weakness in Jekyll's. 

The door slammed shut and Henry jumped in surprise, spinning to face the sound. Lanyon paused in the doorway, his arms laden with books and eyes ringed with familiar dark shadows. He looked more tired and ruffled than usual, his light hair an utter mess, his chin unshaven, and his wirey frame bending from exhaustion. "Henry? Are you alright? I didn't mean to startle you."

"Fine," Jekyll lied flawlessly, instantly relaxing his posture in a practiced manner. "Thank you for this Jacob, I am quite er-" he searched for a word or phrase- "not sure, but I am not well and I need to speak with you."

"I can see it on your face," Lanyon said with a smirk as he strode forward, unceremoniously dropping the books onto the small table at the center of the room. He dropped onto the couch and motioned for Henry to do the same, "Come on, sit and tell me good friend, what is troubling you so deeply. Or, is it merely one of your moods come back with a vengeance?"

"I fear it could be something wonderful and terrifying," Jekyll said, sitting on the couch and folding his gloved hands in his lap. "I, believe I have discovered something in my experiments, something that makes me feel alive and whole and-"

"Pardon, are you  _ courting  _ someone?" teased Lanyon, grinning widely. Henry frowned, "NO! Far from it Jacob! This is far more dangerous and far more potent. I cannot explain it yet, I do not have enough data yet to determine what changes it could bring."

"And why are you telling  _ me  _ this with so little information beyond you're getting into trouble again?" Lanyon sat back with his arms folded, raising a brow at Henry suspiciously. Jekyll rolled his eyes, "This is because  _ I  _ have so little information Lanyon. I felt you, a fellow scientist, would be the best person to know given you're most likely to understand that-"

And here he hesitated, in a second deciding to share his secret or stay silent.

"That is has required me to hire an assistant," Jekyll said with a smile. Hyde was Jekyll, despite how different the two appeared, it would be easy to deceive that one was under the employ of the other. However, if Jekyll again forgot himself as Hyde and did something that couldn't be hidden, the actual Henry Jekyll would receive a devastating blow to his reputation. But if the two  _ could  _ coexist, then perhaps.

Lanyon clearly didn't believe his friend, that much was clear from the deadpan expression on his face. "Someone to keep you on track or keep you sane?"

"Neither," Henry replied jovially. "He will act as, well, I'm not certain yet as to what he will be doing. But I know for a fact he will help me with my experiments and I don't doubt you will see him before this is through."

"Did you hire a some bum off the street to be a test subject?" Jacob deadpanned again. Henry scowled, "Lanyon, I am more ethical than that."

Lanyon shrugged and sat up, "Fine, if you say so. Can I at least know this fellow's name or do I have to wait for him to show up at my door?" Lanyon scowled when Jekyll hesitated, "Henry, you and I have known each other for almost fifteen years now, do you not trust me?"

"I do indeed trust you," Jekyll said, sighing. "His name is Edward Hyde and, well, he's certainly an interesting, person." He shook his head, "I tell you about him because his, condition, could cause us a problem."

"His, condition," Jacob repeated, frowning. He rolled his eyes, "Henry, you've gotten yourself into quite the problem haven't you? What's wrong with him?"

"Addiction Lanyon, addiction to the slums and sins of London." Jekyll scowled, his hands bunching into fists as he recalled his violent and useless actions he wasted the last night on. "He sees it all as so beautiful, as if the world was his to discover and change at will, and he cares not at all for his reputation!"

"Perhaps I could speak to this gentleman?" Lanyon mused, shrugging slightly. "He sounds an interesting individual for conversation."

"I assure you he's not." Knowing how low his inhibitions fell when he was Hyde, Jekyll mostly feared he would outright confess everything to Lanyon or worse, insult him beyond resolve as he'd wanted to do before. 

Jacob rolled his eyes again, "Oh of course. He must be so horrid that Henry Jekyll couldn't  _ bear  _ to hire him as and  _ assistant."  _ He elbowed Jekyll and smiled playfully, "You already forgot about that didn't you."

"Indeed," Henry groaned.

Lanyon chuckled, "So, I"m assuming this is a family thing as opposed to business, then? After all if he is indeed so horrid, why would you have hired him?" 

"Yes, it is family, I should've outright said that I suppose." Why not? They could be mistaken for brothers given they had  _ the same face  _ to a certain extent. Family was by far the easiest excuse, why hadn't he thought of that? Lanyon laughed again, "Easy old friend, just give me the word and I can talk to this fellow for you."

"Jacob you don't-"

"Ah ah! Now that's enough protesting!" Jacob said firmly, sitting up. He took Jekyll by the shoulders, "Why kind of friend would I be if I didn't offer you aid when things became difficult?" He grinned and nodded reassuringly before standing, "Now, would you prefer a red or a white?"

"A, red," Henry answered, smiling. Lanyon turned and strode across the room, Jekyll's smile only widened. All according to plan, with Lanyon knowing of Hyde it'd be a reminder to Jekyll to behave himself a it more. And, if worse came to worse, he could be a powerful asset to snap Edward back into place. Either way, Lanyon was too great an asset to lose their friendship.

The two of them talked amicably all evening over wine and dinner, and through it, Henry's spirits did rise a little. But his mind kept returning to his lab, to the serum waiting for him. Poole would've likely turned in for the night when he returned, but even so she didn't notice the last time he took the serum. (Probably due to the fact he nearly chewed a leather belt in half trying not to scream) The second transformation had been only slightly less painful, but it was already more bearable.

Jekyll left Lanyon's home in slightly lighter spirits, only for his mind to return to the darkness of which he was chained, feeling his heart sink back into despair as he walked home. To his surprise and displeasure, Violet was waiting for him.

"Welcome home doctor!" she said, meeting him at the door, a paper package in her hands. "This was delivered while you were out." 

Jekyll's eyes went wide and he practically ripped the package from her hands, "Who is it from? Did it say?" She sheepishly held up a card and read it aloud: "Watson and Locke tailoring, down on fifth street? It's addressed to you and apparently it was placed about a week ago. Did, did you forget it sir?"

"Yes that's, exactly it," Henry said, slowing his panicked breathing. God, such a tiny thing struck such fear into him. "It is, a gift for my cousin, the man I told you I was hiring?"

"You never mentioned he was family," Violet said, frowning. "Or, that you had cousins."

"You learn things when family passes away," he said nonchalantly, hurrying for the stairs and leaving a perplexed Poole behind. "I will be in my room for the evening, do not disturb me if you can help it Violet."

"I, uh, yes sir!" she called from below, watching confusedly as he slammed the door shut behind. 

Jekyll threw the package on the bed, staring at it for a moment. The whole thing was closed with a thick purple ribbon, tied in a bow. His hands shook as he pulled apart the bow, unwrapping the paper around the clothes and then looking at those with a sense of apprehension. 

He had been foolish to buy these, they meant a type of finality, that Hyde was to remain, to exist as his own identity. Henry sighed, "Hyde is no more than I will let him be. He is, myself, but he  _ must _ be someone else." The words reassured the doctor and he turned to the desk where a small rack of test tubes were sitting.


	8. True Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted August 18, 2017

After the success of the first few nights about a week ago, Jekyll had begun full treatment of himself, keeping rigorous notes after each night of debauchery and fun. What else was it but fun! The thrill of being alive, spending time with Lilly, Rosie and Andy without worry of keeping up the act of being okay.

Because he  _ was  _ okay for once.

Even as Jekyll, he was alright, he breathed a little easier and found himself waking with a satisfaction following the evenings. Of course, the melancholy and lingering shadows weren't fading as he'd hoped, but never mind that.

Because he was  _ someone new _ .

Absinthe, it had been disgusting and overly sweet at first, but the taste of licorice was starting to grow on Hyde. He sat in a booth to one side of the Mountain Tavern, his feet up on the table, watching things silently with a smug little grin. His clothes fit better, given that he'd found some of his older outfits from years before. They were a little too tight, but nothing a little stretching and twisting couldn't solve. He wasn't quite ready to wear those clothes he'd ordered, they still needed to be washed anyhow.

What he wore now was a blue vest and there were some popped stitches along the side, but it fit better than Jekyll's clothes that had swamped him before.

Lost in thought, Edward almost didn't notice when Lilly took a seat beside him. He looked over and smiled, "Lilly! How good to see you, again. How are you this evening?"

"Wondering if you're here for business or play," she said knowingly. Hyde felt his face get hot and he ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to snicker. "Weeeeell, I wasn't planning on it but, I mean,  _ if you're free. _ " He winked and Lilly grinned, Hyde still hoping she caught his meaning.

"I'm almost finished for the evening, you'd be my last," she said with a smirk, placing a hand on his thigh.

"Can I buy you a drink first? At the  _ very  _ least?" Hyde offered, holding up his own glass to show he was in need of another drink. Lilly raised a brow, "How gentlemanly. I could go for a beer."

"So unladylike, any particulars?"

"Something dark." Edward grinned and stood, taking her hand before he left and kissing it. "Of course, my lady." 

He saw her eyes go wide in surprise, but strode away before she could say anything, snickering to himself. Living on impulse was certainly an effort, but already it was making things more entertaining. And Lilly had sought  _ him  _ out this time, perhaps because she recognized a return client, or perhaps something else? 

Hyde snickered again and set his glass on the counter, waiting patiently as Andy strode over. "Refill Edward?"

"Yes please, and a dark beer for the dark lady at my table," Edward said pointing to Lilly.

"Watch your tongue, Rosie might take that the wrong way," Andy said with a frown, taking the glass. 

"I could take that ivory colored pipsqueak," Edward said with a smirk, putting his head on his hands. He frowned and brushed his hair out of his face, it'd only been a few days with bangs like these and they were starting to get more than a little annoying. Andy returned a moment later carrying a small glass and a mug of some dark brew.

"Bad hair day?" he asked, smirking.

"You could say that," Hyde said, scowling and tucking it behind his ear only for it to fall back into his face. Andy chuckled and reached under the bar, pulling out a thin blue ribbon. "One of the other girls left this upstairs the other day, you probably need it more than her though."

Edward took the ribbon and raised a brow, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Tie your hair up, idiot," Andy said, shaking his head as he walked away. Hyde scowled and shook his head, but held onto the ribbon as he took his absinthe and Lilly's beer. 

He resumed his gentlemanly smile and strode towards the table, only to notice a broad shouldered man with reddish hair leaning on the table. He was saying something to Lilly, and Edward could see her expression was cold. A familiar kind of cold, the mask you put on when you were trying not to cry, the kind that barely held back anger. 

As Hyde got closer, he only heard: "-itch like you would be better off as my maid rather than pretending to be a Lady for any guy too drunk to-"

Edward set his drinks down, took a deep breath, then slammed his hands on the table. "Who the hell do you think you are?" The guy, smelling strongly of whiskey, turned to look at Hyde, his flirty, half asleep expression turning into a glare. He stood straighter, a full head taller than Edward and at least forty pounds heavier. Hyde squared his shoulders, unafraid.

"Who's askin'?" the big guy said.

"A friend of the  _ lady  _ you were just insulting," Hyde snarled, balling his fists. 

"She ain't a lady," the guy countered. He grinned, "Tell ya what though, she's probably only good in the bedroom, I wouldn't mind sharing if you-" Before he realized what he was doing, Hyde had pulled back and threw a punch right into the smug arse's face. He felt his knuckles pop uncomfortably on impact and the guy was practically thrown to the side, crashing into a card table and throwing cards everywhere.

Edward cussed loudly and clutched his hand, feeling it throb, not noticing his own strength through the pain. Lilly called out to him and he turned, hurrying over and forgetting the ache in his hand for a moment, "What??" She took his hand and, pulling a bandage like strip from her bag, she began to frantically wrap his throbbing hand. "Lilly what're you doing?"

"Protecting your hands from breaking, this guy is not going down without a fight," she said worriedly, tying it off at the wrist. She gasped and turned him around to see Big Guy staggering to his feet, turning with a glare at them.

He shouted and lunged, Hyde and Lilly dodged in separate directions, meeting on the other side of the table as he crashed into the chairs. Lilly took Hyde's other hand and began to wrap it, both of them looking uneasily at the drunkard as he struggled to his feet, cursing and spitting. Tempers beginning to flare, people were shouting at him and at Hyde for ruining their card game and spilling drinks, but it was clear this guy didn't care about them.

Lilly tied the knot and nodded at Edward, "Good luck and, thanks."

"No problem?" he said, grinning awkwardly. He was shaking with excitement, or was it fear? Impossible to tell, but it felt good. He nodded at Lilly and turned to face the drunkard, raising his fists and frowning, "Let's dance."

Only to be pulled back by someone tugging on his hair, and a glance back revealed Lilly with the blue ribbon, tying back his hair. He gave it a test shake and, finding nothing falling in his face, he grinned. Now he was _ really _ ready to fight.

Someone pulled the drunkard to his feet, speaking in a low voice. They shared a nod, then turned to glare at Hyde. This was going to be more than a scuffle at this rate.

Someone let out a shout, there was the sound of shattering glass, and everything imploded.

Drinks were thrown, Lilly grabbed a chair for defense only to start swinging it like a bat. Andy was behind the bar with a broom, pushing people off the counter top and swatting away flying glasses. And in the center of it all, practically in a fight ring, were Hyde and the drunkard that someone had called McGrath.

He charged at Hyde, swinging both hands over head in a downward swipe, Edward sidestepping just in time for McGrath to smash his hands onto a table and tip it sideways. Hyde scowled and let out a shout, lunging forward and driving his elbow down into McGrath's back with full strength. Hyde barely managed to catch himself as McGrath's face followed his hands into the table, tipping it completely and crashing to the floor.

Edward backpedaled, swallowing hard and feeling his heart pound in his chest. A grin tugged itself onto his face as McGrath stood, turning with a growl to face the shorter man. Hyde stepped forward to go in again when someone grabbed him from behind under his shoulders, pinning his arms back and lifting him off his feet.

Whoever it was held Hyde easily despite how he wiggled and struggled, kicking wildly and cussing like a sailor. McGrath grinned and stormed over, rolling up his sleeve. "You little-" and he slammed his fist right under Hyde's ribs, knocking the air out of him.

Edward gasped and let out a wheeze, crying out in pain when McGrath punched him again. As he pulled back for a third time, Hyde curled up and kicked into the air, the heel of his shoe finding a home in McGrath's nose and sending him backwards. 

The guy holding Hyde cried out in surprise for his friend, his grip loosening for a second, long enough for Edward to slam his head back at full force. The guy's grip gave way and Hyde dropped to his feet, turning fast and throwing a punch into the guy's gut. 

Hyde felt someone grab his hair from behind and his eyes widened in surprise as they pulled hard, yanking him backwards and slamming him into a table behind them. Drinks went flying as Edward crashed to the ground, beer spilling down his vest and stinking of alcohol. 

McGrath grabbed Hyde by the shirt collar and dragged him back to his feet. He threw two punches with the same hand before Hyde had a chance to react, hitting Edward twice in the face, his mouth and in his right eye. Hyde ducked before McGrath could land a third, pulling himself out of the larger man's grip and backing away until he felt a table behind him. 

He could feel a bruise beginning to swell around his eye and his lip, his heart and head were pounding and every muscle was shaking with adrenaline. It was hard for him to breathe, but still he was managing with a sort of wheeze. As McGrath stepped forward to throw another punch, Edward scowled, this ended now.

He reached behind him and found the cool throat of a bottle, and as McGrath lunged for him again, he swung with the bottle and shattered it across McGrath's face. The larger man let out a shrill cry of pain as small cuts scraped across his face, Hyde stepped back with the shattered glass dropping from his hand.

Thank god Lilly had wrapped them.

McGrath shouted in pain and his buddy went to his side, checking his friend's face. He helped the bigger man stand, glaring at Hyde before helping him stumble off. Edward scowled, finally catching his breath as the chaos around them continued.

A bottle flew past his head, but Hyde didn't notice. 

He scanned the tavern, searching for Lilly, and found her behind the bar, fending people off with Andy. He nodded to himself and made a break for it, grabbing his cape from where it'd fallen on the floor and vaulting over a table. He ducked under the flying fists of another fight and dodged a young woman swinging a stool like an axe.

With surprising agility for his sore and shaking frame, he slid over the bar counter and crashed behind it. Lilly let out a shout of surprise and he gave her a small wave, propping himself up against the bar and letting out a groan of pain. Lilly dropped down beside him, "You okay?"

"I'm exhausted," he said bitterly. He looked at her and grinned, "But I mean, I won."

"Only because you glassed him," Lilly said with a frown. "That wasn't fair play."

"I don't play fair when someone refuses to respect another," Hyde said firmly, nodding.

Andy crouched nearby both of them, "We need to leave before this gets any worse. The girls already know to stay in their rooms and-"

"Mine's still unlocked, I grabbed the key before the fight started," Lilly said, searching in her bag. "If we can cause a distraction, we might be able to make a break for upstairs."

"The way's practically clear," Andy said, pointing. 

"Then let's go!" Lilly said. She paused, turning to look at Hyde.

Only then did he too realize he'd been staring with a tiny, odd smile on his face. He shook his head vigorously and grinned excitedly, "Let's go then! What're we waiting for!"

He tried to stand and hissed in pain, but pushed through it and dragged himself to his feet. He offered Lilly a hand and they both stood, ducking low behind the bar before making a break for the stairs to the upper floors, to the inn. Andy ran close behind them and the trio sprinted upstairs, narrowly dodging thrown projectiles and a pair of scared women trying to flee up the stairs.

Edward tripped on the top step, only managing to stay on his feet because Lilly grabbed his arm and helped him on. They made it to the end of the hall and Lilly unlocked her room, ushering Hyde and Andy in behind her before shutting it and locking it. 

The chaos from downstairs was leaking through the floor, shouting and screaming, but all mingled with some odd manic laughter. The room itself was near silent but for a small stove in one corner that creaked and popped occasionally. It was dark, only a small bit of moonlight and lamplight leaking through the curtains that hid the window, and there was a sweet perfume smell in the air. 

They all sighed in relief and Edward dropped onto the bed, letting out a groan as the bruises forming on his stomach let out a shout of protest. The bed was soft, the sheets felt fresh and clean and he just wanted to lay there for a while and disappear until the bruises stopped hurting.

He remembered this bed from the first night, the nights that followed and Lilly, but now he was too sore to think of scandalous things. Sleep seemed optimal, but all things considered it would be a very bad idea to fall asleep here and awake as Jekyll. That alone could cause  _ quite  _ a problem. 

Edward sat up a little and began to undo the buttons on the vest, pulling up his shirt and prodding his stomach. The muscles there were already sensitive, especially just under his ribs, which was to be expected. He lay back on the bed and began to feel around on his face, testing the edges of the bruises under his eye and on his lip.

"Edward? Eddie? Are you okay?" Lilly asked, walking over and sitting on the bed. Hyde prodded his face, "I think so. I'm sore as hell and I want a nap."

She snickered and took his hand, untying the bandages from around his wrist. "I, appreciate what you did for me. You didn't need to though."

"I do whatever I want," Edward said with a huff. "But, I couldn't just stand by when that, arse, said that to you. It was stupid and insulting and-"

"And I hear it all the time," Lilly said solemnly, pulling the wrapping free. She took Hyde's other hand and began to do the same. Edward shook his head, "You looked ready to cry. I could see it in your eyes Lilly, I know that feeling. You didn't deserve that."

"I'm a Flower Girl, it's part of the job."

"But it shouldn't be," Hyde insisted, lifting his hand to his face to inspect it. Dark bruises were forming on his knuckles and the skin was chafed from the bandages rubbing on his skin. His knuckles popped uncomfortably as he flexed his fingers. When Lilly finished unwrapping his other hand, he found the same thing. 

Lilly sighed, "It's ridiculous for women like me to expect any kind of respect, we-"

"Are working women doing your jobs and getting paid for it," Edward interrupted, rubbing his sore eye and almost enjoying the sting. "You're doing what you have to to survive in  _ their  _ world, you deserve their respect at  _ least _ ."

"You, really think so?" she asked, sounding surprised and kind of floored.

"If a scumbag like me gets respect, you deserve at much or  _ more  _ respect," he insisted.

"You aren't a scumbag," Lilly said, smirking.

"I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Hyde," Andy said, sitting in a wooden chair by the door. "You ladies work day in and day out, you get sick 'n injured 'n all manner of things, you deserve more respect than those drunkards give you."

"You only say that because you're married to Mrs. C," Lilly said, smiling wider.

"So?" asked Hyde, sitting up with a hiss. He bumped Lilly, "Just because he's married doesn't make it any less true! You, you girls, are incredible. I keep meaning to ask Rosie to teach me how to pickpocket but I never can remember. Also, thanks for wrapping up my hands, and my hair." He flicked his ponytail off his shoulder, "I like it this way, a lot."

Lilly chuckled, "It suits you. You're welcome, Eddie."

A gunshot fired off downstairs and all three of them froze.

"Perhaps I should call the police," Andy said, grimacing.

~

"Sir? Did you fall out of bed?" asked Poole the next morning.

Jekyll touched the bruise on his lip and cringed, "I uh, yes, the eye, I did fall out of bed. Hit the bedside table on the way down." He'd awoke, aching, sore and hung over, worse than before. Luckily most of the bruising, now an ugly purple color, could be hidden with clothing. His face, however, was not so easily disguised.

"And, your lip? Sir?" Poole asked, frowning suspiciously. He grinned half heartedly, "I, ran into a door frame. At full speed, without realizing it."

"Sharp door frame," she said, shaking her head. 


	9. The Murder Of Sir Danvers Carew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally Posted Nov 3 2017

Hyde spun and posed dramatically, holding up his cape with one hand as he examined his blurry reflection in the mirror. A fitted violet vest with shining gold buttons, a collapsible top hat with a matching purple band, a long cape with a smaller cloak that covered his shoulders and hid the clasp, and finally, pants that weren't being held on by old suspenders. There was something else though, something that seemed to tie the whole ensemble together; the ribbon that had tied the package was perfect for holding back his longer, lighter hair, like the ribbon he'd gotten during the scuffle at the Mountain.

He still refused to wear Jekyll's glasses, it'd make them look far too alike and he'd be recognized much easier than without them.

Besides, he could still see well enough to get by, that was all that mattered!

He smiled in the mirror, hands on his hips and announced to the quiet apartment: "I! Am Edward Hyde!" He grinned and did a little jig of happiness, looking around at the strange room he now stood in with a sense of pride.

On one side, a makeshift lab constructed on top of someone else's old desk and a worn, slept in bed. There was a leak in one wall, the bathroom creaked, the kitchen squeaked, and there was a smear on the wall that looked distinctly like blood. But it was now home for Hyde, and a second home for Lilly and Rosie, somewhere Henry Jekyll had no place.

After becoming friends with them, or first a recurring client and then an acquaintance, he realized he'd need somewhere to stay that  _ wasn't  _ Jekyll's home. Lilly, overhearing hearing his thoughts out loud and assuming Henry was his landlord, informed him of a cheap, dismal apartment for rent nearby the Flower Girl House. She said this with a knowing wink and was met with an eager smile.

And she was coming tonight! He'd cleaned up a little, fresh sheets on the bed and soap in the bathroom, but it was still dingy as hell. It wasn't  _ really  _ a home, it was a base, a headquarters, a checkpoint!

But also somewhere to take Lilly when they weren't renting a room at the Mountain.

A fresh bouquet of lilly-like flowers sat on the desk, and Hyde picked them up before he left. This bouquet in one hand, a key in the other, top hat adorned with pride, he strode for the door. It had been worth the wait for a full, custom tailored suit and hat, but he finally felt like  _ he _ was truly  _ him _ .

Which was ironic considering he was only half of his real self, but regardless.

He walked out of the apartment, bidding farewell to the crotchety old man that owned the place as he strolled onto the streets. As he walked, he thought of the week before, the last time he'd seen Lilly.

Edward sighed at the thought of her, her smile she tried so hard to hide, her adorable giggle and her deep love of flowers. She was so sweet and childish when she wasn't working, her persona being nearly a warrior, but around Hyde she'd allowed herself to just,  _ be _ . Rosie was still Rosie, loud and brash, but Lilly was soft and sweet.

And her laugh made Edward's heart flutter. He knew it, he was totally smitten for this woman, and though Jekyll held no feelings for her, his thoughts too kept returning to her. Though, he was embarrassed, Hyde was not.

They'd met almost every night and spent hours together. Sometimes it was wild, violent and passionate, other times soft and sweet. And they talked, they drank, they dreamed.

Good God had it been fun, and miraculous considering he got out of there with little more than bruises on his collarbone and sore hips.

Hyde sighed at the memories, a spring in his step as he walked. Ahead, someone was walking down the street, and they wore a familiar blue scarf. Or at least, it looked like a familiar blue scarf, Hyde couldn't  _ quite  _ tell without his glasses. Edward snickered and called out: "Hallo sir! Are you not Hastie Jacob Lanyon sir?"

Lanyon looked up in surprise, blinked, and nodded with a small smile. "Why, yes I am." The two stopped, face to face, and Lanyon's expression turned stunned. "Pardon, have we met?"

"I don't think so, but my cousin has told me of you," Edward lied smoothly, smiling. "I am Mr. Hyde, assistant to Dr. Jekyll, you know him don't you?"

"I know him well, he is a close friend of mine," Jacob answered, shrugging. His eyes never left Hyde's face, as if they were locked on some impurity, but couldn't quite place it.

Hyde tucked his flowers in the crook of his arm and offered his hand to Lanyon, forcing himself not to snicker or grin, "A  _ pleasure  _ to meet you Hastie, perhaps we'll see each other again yes?"

"Perhaps," Lanyon said, frowning but shaking his hand anyway. He noticed the scarring on Hyde's hand and asked: "Lord, what happened to your hand?"

"They say madness runs in the family," Hyde said with a wink, giggling. How he didn't know his own friend's face! Was a wig and a lack of glasses really such a difference?

He nodded farewell and continued on, humming gaily to himself and knowing well that Lanyon was watching in confusion. In fact, he only barely heard him say: "Jekyll, your cousin looks like a madman. Who have you  _ hired? _ " Hyde laughed aloud, hearing it echo in the street around him, surely spooking some other pedestrians.

Why was it so funny? The irony that not even Jekyll's closest friend could recognize his face like this! His attitude too was so different, so jovial and so relaxed, why would one even think it was the same morose individual?

Edward walked swiftly now, a smile on his face and in his heart, he felt nothing could make this evening sorrowful!

Until, in his haste, he bumped shoulders with another individual walking and the flowers went flying from his hands. They fell into a deep puddle in the street, many of the petals falling from the delicate flowers as it crashed. Hyde stared at it for a moment, then slowly turned to look at who'd crashed into him.

A hunched, elderly individual in a dark coat, with a cane bearing a silver head. They looked back and Edward felt a cold, familiar chill shoot down his spine, sparking fire in his gut.

Sir Danvers Carew, the man who'd vetoed him at the Board, who'd refused to hire him as a doctor, who'd called him psychotic during a mania episode, who clearly didn't care that he'd just thrown expensive lillies into the street! He looked back at Hyde, his expression neutral but undeniably sour.

"Watch where you're going."

And he walked on without so much as an apology.

Edward stared, and for a moment he was confused.

Before, such an action would've resulted in him gathering up the flowers, tidying them, and walking on. But now, now a deep bitterness had blossomed in his chest and it was transforming into pure hatred. 

Such a night, such precious hours of feeling alive could not be wasted on being bitter, but bitter he was!

Long had he hated Carew, for he knew better than the rest what the esteemed Sir Danvers had done to get what he'd wanted. This was not Hyde's hate, this was Jekyll's.

When Henry Jekyll was younger, he'd lived with his mother and they'd both run a small shop, an apothecary. In his early juvenile years his condition struck and his mother sought help in a family friend, a frequenter of the shop, Sir Danvers Carew. He easily diagnosed it and for a while things were better, but the medicine was expensive and after two years it became hard to make ends meet. 

That is, until Carew offered to help in the form of marriage, he wanted a wife and a son, the Jekylls could be both. When Jekyll's mother refused, firmly believing she was still loyal to her missing husband, there was an immediate change. Henry sank into a despair deeper than anything and within a year had tried repeatedly to kill himself. Carew had him committed, supposedly to get him off his mother's hands and protect him from himself.

Henry was locked in the St. Luke's psychiatric wing, treated like an animal while his mother was married to Carew.

Five years passed and Jekyll's mother passed away from unknown causes, though the consensus was that she'd fallen into a melancholy akin to her son's and wasted away. He was released the year after her death, declared sound in mind and body, to inherit his real father's fortune and his mother's business.

He studied medicine under Carew to spite the old man, to prove he was not an animal, only to be rejected from Luke's when he returned to try and make changes to the inhuman practices in the psychiatric ward.

Step after step Carew had stood in the way, helping himself while others fell apart. 

Hyde refused to let that happen again, even if it was just over damn flowers.

Subtly, his hands bunching into fists, he walked after Carew, teeth grinding in his mouth with anger he'd never known. He quickly caught up to Carew and passed him, walking swiftly and turning sharply into a space between houses. He he heard the clicking of Carew's cane approaching he let out a shout of agony and collapsed, clutching his abdomen in pain.

Through falsely shut eyes, he watched Carew pause in the mouth of the alley and call in: "Are you alright sir?"

"My chest! It is burning!" Edward cried dramatically, reaching towards him. "Sir! I, I need assistance, I fear I may be dying!" He made his voice crack with fear, sounding desperate, he truly sounded like a dying man. 

Carew seemed to hesitate, but he hurried in and offered his hand to Hyde. Edward smiled gratefully and took it, pulling with all his strength and kicking Carew's cane out of his hand. Hyde rolled out of the way as the old man fell forward with a cry, snatching up the cane and standing over the old man, his hat falling from his head.

Sir Danvers let out a groan, "Why, why would you do that?" 

Hyde knelt and forcefully turned the old man's face towards him, "You don't recognize me?"

Carew squinted, his tiny glasses having fallen from his face, "Doctor Jekyll? What happened to you?"

"I stopped hiding," Edward answered with a manic grin, standing. He raised the cane, testing the weight in one hand, "And you will too." 

With a motion too swift for either of them, he swung Carew's cane and struck him in the head, slamming the old man's skull into the pavement. Again and again and again he swung, the sound of cracking bones came before a scream could even make it out. Energy raced through Hyde's chest and he couldn't stop, not until the cane snapped clean in half did he falter.

His chest heaved with heavy breath and his heartbeat was pounding in his head. The ribbon had fallen loose and hair was drifting in front of his face; blood splattered his dark pants, drying slowly in the cold night air. Slowly, Edward straightened, casting the snapped cane aside and staring at the body. 

Without a moment more of hesitation, he grabbed his top hat, and the ribbon, and he ran. The satisfaction of vengeance gave way to pure fear, panic that coursed through his heart like fire. Realization sank in slowly at first, then all too quickly, he'd just murdered Sir Danvers Carew with his own cane.

With the old prick's  _ own cane!  _

__ Hyde laughed maniacally as he ran, voice echoing again in the empty street, his mind racing. Alternating questions about why he'd just done that and thoughts of pure glee at his actions. God he felt good! No, no he was horrified!

If he was caught for this, he'd be hanged for sure!

No life without a little risk though, wasn't that what he wanted? Lilly would have to wait, he needed to get this blood out and-

His foot slipped in a puddle and he pitched forward, falling hard and suddenly onto the pavement and feeling his legs become soaked with muddied water. His head began to throb around his eye as he picked himself up, and his hand came away sticky with something when he touched the cut over his eye. That'd be an excuse enough, he thought as he picked himself up off the ground, was there anywhere nearby?

Lanyon, of course!

~

"Well, I can now say with confidence that our dear Henry is doing something incredibly stupid," Lanyon said, leaning against the door as it shut behind him. Utterson, waiting patiently at the table, looked up from the letter he had been examining, "How so?"

"I met his assistant Hyde this evening, and there's undoubtedly something  _ off  _ about him." Lanyon pulled off his jacket and strolled into the parlor, "I could not place it, it was as if I knew him but I  _ didn't _ , I had never seen that man before in my life!"

"Are you certain it wasn't just the family resemblance that bothered you so?"

"Far from it, it was something else." Jacob sighed and threw his jacket over the back of an armchair, sitting heavily. "I'm worried about Henry Gabriel, moreso now than ever."

"Speak for yourself," Utterson replied, gesturing with the letter he'd been reading. "Our dear Jekyll's will is enough to make me suspicious of this Edward Hyde."

"How so?"

"Well, it states that, should Henry go missing for an extended time, everything of his is to be given to this Hyde fellow," he explained. "A man we've  _ never  _ heard Henry speak of is now going to receive every study Jekyll has ever done and every penny of the fortune he has if he disappears."

"Sounds like the set up for a murder, or worse, blackmail," Lanyon said somberly. "What secret does Hyde know about our dear friend Gabriel that's so devastating Henry would do  _ that  _ to prevent its telling? I mean, it's not as if my past with him is any secret among us."

"It is not our place to speculate Jacob," Utterson said, setting the letter aside. "We can only hope for the best."

"And the best would be that you never meet Mr. Hyde," Lanyon said, dramatically throwing his arms into the air. "But, I must admit, I want to know more. Perhaps I need to be the Mister Seek to his Mister Hy-"

Both gentlemen jumped in surprise as there came a rapid knocking at the door, not so much a knocking as a frantic pounding. They shared a worried look and Lanyon stood, hurrying to the door, forgetting to take off his scarf.

He pulled open the door and froze.

Hyde stood outside, a bruise spreading up the left side of his face and blood dripping from a cut over his eyebrow, mud was splattered on his pants up to the knee. "Lanyon! I'm dreadfully sorry to bother you but I was attacked!"

He pushed past Lanyon into the parlor, attempting fruitlessly to wipe the blood from his cheek, "He leaped out of an alley and threw me to the street, I barely managed to escape but I-" he stopped suddenly, finally noticing Gabriel Utterson sitting at the table to the side of the small room. "Oh, hallo."

"Hyde, the bathroom is down that hall," Lanyon said, awkwardly putting his hand on Hyde's shoulder. "I can have my servant bring-"

"No no no I'll be fine," Edward insisted almost frantically, brushing off the hand and hurrying down the hall. They heard the slamming of a door and the sound of running water not a moment later.

"That is him?" asked Gabriel, sounding somewhat intimidated.

"That's him," Lanyon answered, folding his arms.

"I see what you noted about the, hard to place  _ wrongness, _ " Utterson said.

Lanyon turned, suddenly wild, "I know! It's as if I know him but I am certain I do not! He looks like the dead yet the picture of health! A man of contradictions, at time appearing as a madman and a victim at others! Jekyll, by God I wish to know who you have hired."

"Did you not go to see him to ask?" 

"He asked not to be bothered, and Ms. Poole insisted I don't disturb him," Lanyon said, sighing. "I fear there is something darker at work here."

"I'm inclined to agree with you," Utterson mused. "That bruise looked, less like an attack, more like running into something. And where did the blood on his hands come from?"

"You presume he  _ attacked  _ someone?" Jacob laughed awkwardly, "Why would Henry hire his cousin as an assistant if he were a  _ murderer? _ "

"That is why I think it is blackmail Jacob." Utterson shook his head, "Think about it, we know so little of Jekyll beyond his past at the hospital and his reputation."

"Gabriel, I know him better than you do, I know much of his family and his childhood, you know this! We were very close."

"Then you know he's never talked of his family beyond his mother and father, and of them he never spoke of aunts and uncles."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't believe Hyde's actually family."

"Then what would explain the resemblance?" asked Lanyon, gesturing dramatically with his hands. "He is undeniably related to Jekyll, they look as if they could be brothers I-" He stopped, eyes going wide, "Perhaps, a lost brother?"

"Illegitimate at the least," Utterson added, thinking. "From another father likely."

"But-"

"We aren't brothers," a voice said. The two gentlemen turned and saw Hyde standing in the hallway, his cape hanging on his arm with his coat, top hat collapsed on top. His pants were soaked to the knee and dripping slightly. The cut over his eye had been cleaned, but it was clearly swelling.

He smiled at them, thin and icy, like a snake about to bite, "Cousins, I promise. Use the term as you will, but you are not wrong about the blackmail."

"Why are you blackmailing Henry?" asked Utterson, his eyes wide in shock and seemingly aghast anger. Hyde shrugged, setting his clothes on an armchair. "Money? Survival? Pick your poison. He only owes me for years of being an uptight and selfish prick."

"Jekyll is far from selfish," Lanyon snapped, jabbing his finger towards Hyde. "I've never known someone who dedicated so much of their time to discovering a medicine for-"

"For himself!" snapped Hyde, scowling. "Sure sure! He says it's for the betterment of others but the whole reason he's ever done anything is for his  _ own benefit. _ "

"Name one thing."

"Vengeance," Hyde said with a grin. He placed his hands on his chest and then out like wings, "Me! Hiring me was all for him to protect his precious reputation! I could tell the world his secrets and-"

"And you plan to murder him?" snapped Utterson, standing. Hyde stopped, made a sound like choking, then laughed aloud. His laughing got harder and he had to lean on the chair for support, a hand clutching his abdomen as he cackled. Lanyon backed away, casting a worried glance at Utterson who shrugged in confusion.

Hysteria, that's what this had to be, but from what? Being mugged? Or something worse?

Hyde's laughter petered out and he straightened, wiping tears from his face. "Oh Lord, you don't know, I shouldn't be so cruel. Your dear friend Henry Jekyll is more likely to kill himself than  _ I  _ am."

"I am familiar with his melancholies," Jacob said, folding his arms. Edward grinned devilishly, "Oh you don't know how far he's sunk my friend."

"How do you know-"

"Suicide runs in the family," Hyde said with a grin, holding up his hands. Two darker, wider scars crossed both of his wrists, a telltale sign of a survivor of suicide. His grin only got wider as Lanyon and Utterson went pale.

He shrugged and pulled on his coat, "You want to deny that such evil could be in your friend who you know so well? Go right ahead! But..." And here he hesitated, his self righteous smirk falling away to a look of slight fear. "Well, watch the letters he sends you."

Hyde's terrifying facade was shattered by a twisted snicker and he donned his cape, "Anyhow, many thinks for allowing me to use your washroom. It was, a pleasure meeting you, Utterson I presume?" Gabriel was silent and Edward shrugged, donning his hat. "Nevermind, don't care. I'll be on my way. But, it's likely we'll see each other again."

And with that, he left in an air of confidence.

~ 

Lilly sat alone at a table, lazily spinning around a bottle, bored out of her mind. He said he was going to be here two hours ago, and she'd already had to take two client while waiting because  _ she had to.  _ Lilly sighed and righted the bottle, staring at the glass.

"Lilly, hon? You finished for tonight or what?" asked Andy, setting a new drink on the table beside her. "Rosie's already headed home hasn't she? You still waiting for Edward?"

"He promised he was going to come, and that he had something important to tell me," she answered, sitting up. "And no, it's not marriage I  _ fully  _ know that but, you know, it's not every day someone like that wants to tell a secret to me. And I mean a genuine secret and not the, you understand right Andy?"

The bartender smiled and nodded, "I do. Tell you what, you can stick around till I finish closing up, if he shows he shows, if he doesn't, I'll walk you home."

"Ms. C will let you do that?" asked Lilly, smirking a little. Andy rolled his eyes, "Lilly we live in the same building. And you know who my heart belongs to." He winked and went back to sweeping.

Lilly's smirk faded and she sighed, standing from the table and pulling on her shawl. She jumped in surprised as someone pounded on the door to the tavern before throwing it open. "Lilly! I am late I fully understand it but I have something  _ important  _ to tell you!" She turned to see Edward, standing in the door, breathing heavily and looking frozen. 

"Eddie what-" He ran forward, grabbed her face and pulled her into a kiss.

Lilly pulled back in surprise, stammering. Hyde smiled at her, his face flush and blushing, "I never told you that I loved you did I?"

"Edward! It's been less than a month!"

"And we never know how much time we have before we're through!" Hyde said, a mad smile on his face. "Lilly, we must live for the now! Run with me, come on!" And he pulled her from the tavern, laughing aloud.

She laughed with him, nervous and unsure, but happy. She followed him into an alley, unsteadily following him up windowsills onto the roof where a cold wind was blowing. He held her hand and they sat up there for a while, silent. Lilly spoke first.

"Edward, we haven't really talked," she said, hugging herself against the cold. "I mean, we've talked sure, but I barely know you and now you're saying you-"

"So ask," he said, smiling. Lilly blinked in surprise, watching as he unclasped his cape, standing easily on the roof and wrapping it around her shoulders. He sat again and nodded, "Go on, what do you want to know?"

"I er..." And she hesitated, so many things she'd wanted to ask him, where to start? Before she could decide she asked: "Where are you from? We can start with that."

"London," Hyde answered.

"How old are you?"

"Thirty one, and you?"

"Thirty four."

She asked every simple question she could think of, filling in the basic gap of information she'd been lacking about her friend. Lilly found herself smiling, relaxed and warm, wearing his cape on the rooftop of someone's building. An odd situation certainly, but a pleasant one.

After a while the simple questions ran out, and she found herself hesitating before asking: "What were your parents like?" She'd told him about the other girls raising  _ her _ , Edward should at least tell her the same of the people who raised him.

The question mad him paused, tilting his head as he looked out into the street. "At first, my mother, alone given that my father had vanished when I was very young. We ran a small apothecary together, I helped her out behind the counter until I fell ill at, fourteen. I spent a few years in the hospital and my mother died soon after marrying another man."

It was good, Lilly didn't know this was Henry's past too, or she would've become suspicious. 

Hyde sat a little straighter and sighed, "When I finally recovered, I was alone. I've been wandering since, picking up small jobs here and there until I heard my cousin had struck well in London as a doctor." His tone became bitter, "Bastard never considered the rest of us, when I came to him for aid he treated me as a liability, as a threat to his perfect  _ reputation. _ "

He folded his arms, "I wish I could leave, but I can't. I'm, trapped here, dependent on him. And I don't think it'll last."

Lilly sighed, reaching out to wrap her arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. He chuckled and slid over, sitting next to her and wrapping the cape around his shoulders too before looking up at the sky. "It's a lovely night, isn't it?"

"It is," Lilly said with a sigh. "Thank you for telling me, Eddie."

"Of course, Lilly."


	10. The Newspaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted Dec 7 2017

October 27th

My worst fears have come to fruition. 

I

Hyde has committed an act of violence that was beyond my control. I won't deny there was part of me that did so deeply desire that violence, but that doesn't excuse my actions.

I am completely discontinuing the experiments, and I plan to destroy the rest of the strange salt mineral that I have used thus far. I will keep it in case my body starts to go into some sort of withdrawal, but I pray that does not come to pass. Fear will not leave me be now, and I can't keep myself from sinking into a deeper melancholy than ever before.

But I  _ must  _ continue, there is valuable science in this experiment despite the danger it presents. I know not what value it contains but I must at least tell Lanyon or the Board what I have discovered. And to do that I must survive the inquisition, hide Edward's involvement in the murder until it has come to pass that they do not know the murderer.

This implies I may have to wait years before I can share my findings, but I will.

I must.

~

Jekyll was shaving when Poole knocked on the door. 

He hissed through his teeth as the blade nicked the skin under his chin, and as he began to wipe his face he said: "Come in." He heard the bedroom door open and Violet's voice called: "Sir? Have you read this morning's paper?"

"I've barely had a chance to dress myself Violet," he called back, voice more sour than he intended. Poole, standing in the bedroom, winced at the tone of his voice and waited silently for him to exit the bathroom. When he did she said: "Sir Danver's Carew has been murdered sir! They found his body in and alley and, well..." She offered him the paper, but he didn't move.

He looked terrified, Violet thought, as if he'd been dreading this news. But how could he have known? He'd been home the past three days straight, not leaving even his room for more than food or greeting Lanyon when he'd visited. This melancholy had been worse than the others, he hadn't wanted to speak to anyone for any reason, but Mr. Lanyon had a way of coaxing him out.

Jekyll took the newspaper from her and stared at it, taking a deep breath to steady himself before saying: "Is there, anyone else that was killed?"

"Not from what I've heard, sir," Poole answered obediently. Her heart was racing in her chest, she was afraid of him. Why was she afraid of the man she'd been employed to for six years? Someone she'd spoken to on friendly terms so often, despite his moods, why now did she want to run? She cared so deeply for him, why now was she so worried?

He nodded slowly, "I, has there been any post? Besides this, I mean."

"Nothing sir." 

He nodded again, "Yes, I, I will be down soon. But, I believe I need a moment." Poole nodded hurriedly, "Of course, sir," and hurried out of the room, attempting to remain calm and collected until the door had shut behind her. 

She paused for a moment there, listening for any sort of sound as she had done before, something that might indicate what state he was in. When she heard the shattering of glass, Violet hurried downstairs.

~

Lanyon was pacing in his study, his mind a whirlwind. He was certain, absolutely certain, how could such a coincidence be anything but the truth! That strange man, Edward Hyde, Jekyll's assistant, was Sir Danver's murderer. The killing, that happened not two blocks away, the same night as the madman showed up at the door, muddied, bloodied and bruised, it was not just a coincidence! 

How else could it be such serendipity? No evidence left at the scene indeed! All the evidence had been washed down Jacob Lanyon's bathtub before he'd known what it was! 

If anyone found out that he'd let Hyde wash away the evidence, would he be convicted of aiding and abetting? Unlikely, he barely knew Hyde! And, if what the man had said  _ was  _ true, he barely knew Jekyll either. 

He needed answers, that much was certain. With an air of determination, Jacob gathered his scarf, his coat, and a notepad before hurrying out the door. He was going to march up to Jekyll, demand to see Hyde, and confront him then and there. If it came down to it, he'd convince Henry to spill his secrets so Lanyon could be at least an ally to him.

If Hyde were to go to the press and start spreading rumors, Lanyon would at least have a hand int stopping them or quieting them.

As he hurried on in the morning light, thinking all this and more, one thought kept returning to his mind.

What if Henry knew?

It was no secret between the two of them that Jekyll harbored a deep disdain for Sir Danvers Carew due to their, conflicted past and Henry's incarceration. On multiple times during their time together at university he'd spoken adamantly about revenge. Had he hired Hyde with the intention of finally going through with it?

Did he have the nerve to?

~

Violet steadied her breathing as she went about making breakfast. She allowed herself to fall into old patterns, rhythms as she worked, the shaking begin to eb away.

Something was wrong, something was very very wrong. The fear on Dr. Jekyll's face had been more than just surprise, could he know? Could he, could he have been the murderer? And what of the fresh bruise on his cheek?

No, he'd been home every night recently, hadn't he? Come to think of it, Violet hadn't actually seen him out at night beyond saying goodnight and reappearing in the morning without ever coming out of his room. Well it made sense if he actually went to sleep, but some of the sounds and voices she'd heard beyond that door at night. Someone else visiting, but they didn't even come through the front door!

And she paid such close attention to detail, hoping to impress him.

Perhaps it was this mysterious cousin of his, Edward Hyde, that she had yet to meet. But what prevented him from coming in the front door? And she'd never seen him or heard of this fellow, even though she knew almost everything about Jekyll that he was willing to share. 

He'd even told her, he had no cousins and no next of kin, should he die she would most likely be left with many of his things as she was his closest friend. Did he remember any of that?

Footsteps, hurrying downstairs. Poole steadied herself, lifted the teapot, put on a smile and walked out of the kitchen.

This was no time to tell him. She had been hoping to, so dearly hoping, but now was not the time.

~

Lanyon pounded on the front door of Jekyll's house, breathing heavily and leaning on the door frame as he tried to catch his breath. A gentleman like him was better off riding in a cab as opposed to running around town, but this was no time for formalities and fancies, he needed to speak with Henry  _ now _ . He knocked again, "Come on, I  _ know  _ you're home."

He heard something unlocking and the familiar face of Violet Poole, carrying a tea tray in one hand, looked out. "Oh, Doctor Lanyon, what're you doing here?"

"I need to speak with Henry, right away," he said, making sure it was clear in his voice that this matter could not wait. He saw Violet hesitate, looking back into the house worriedly, but she opened the door for him. Was Hyde here? Was that what she was so frightened of?

Did she know?

Lanyon thanked her and hurried inside, following slight sounds into the dining room where Jekyll was sitting at the table, his hands folded in front of him and eyes unfocused in thought. Jacob dropped the newspaper on the table and slammed his hands down, "Henry,  _ what  _ is going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered numbly, sitting up slowly. He looked at Lanyon, "Old friend,  _ he's dead _ . In all my dreaming and scheming I never, I never thought he would die before I..." He sighed, "I don't know. You haven't just come here to gossip about Carew's death have you?"

"I've come to warn you about your  _ lovely  _ assistant," Jacob said, standing straighter and folding his arms. "Gabriel and I met the wonderful Mr. Hyde not two nights ago, in the middle of the night, covered with mud, blood, and bruises."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Henry.

"I'm suggesting, he  _ murdered  _ Carew!" Lanyon threw his arms up, "Henry! My home is not two streets from the murder, someone running for their life, someone who  _ knows  _ me, could easily presume I'd harbor them in a time of need. He ran into me on the street not an hour before! He knew me, my face, and as your assistant I can only assume he knew my address was safe and-"

"Jacob, I fired him," Jekyll said firmly, a dread sort of seriousness coming to his face. Lanyon's face went pale, "You fired him? When he has such secrets that could-"

"The secrets he had are nothing that could damage my reputation." Henry waved his gloved hand, "Gossip most of it. I humored him because he was family, and after he failed me  _ again _ , I fired him and sent him back to whatever grimy place he climbed out of." He rubbed his eyes under his glasses, "It's over."

"But it's not!" Lanyon insisted, sitting at the table beside his friend. "Despite the evil Carew put you through, he deserves to have his killer brought to justice! He need to go to the police and tell them they have a sus-"

"There will be  _ none  _ of that," snapped Jekyll, glaring. "They will already have need to suspect me, to suggest I had employed the murderer will have them arrest me, Jacob."

"But it was he who murdered Carew, not you! Why not Henry? He is Carew's killer I  _ know it! _ "

"Have you any evidence? Have you anything besides your and Gabriel's word?" Henry scowled, "We've no evidence, and Hyde has already departed London. Who knows where in England he could be by now! But going to the police saying a man who doesn't exist in this city killed Carew for seemingly no reason while under  _ my  _ employ would suggest I wanted him killed! If we tell them of Hyde, I will be the one arrested for murder Lanyon! My past record is nothing but evidence that it's my fault!"

"But I know you, we know you," Lanyon countered, gesturing to Poole who was watching nervously from the doorway. "We would vouch, Poole could tell them you were home all night and-"

"No, we won't go to the police with this," Jekyll said firmly, standing. "I will stay out of the matter, that's it. Violet, you don't have to make breakfast. I think I'll be spending the day alone again, thank you." He turned and stormed from the room, Poole darted out of the way and looked like she was shaking.

Jacob stood too, watching his friend go. "I, damn it Henry, we might not get another chance."

"I couldn't, you know." Lanyon looked to Violet, who's dark face was white with fear. "I couldn't say he was home that night, I didn't see him after sundown and all his doors were locked."

"I highly doubt  _ our _ Henry Jekyll could've murdered Carew though," Lanyon said, folding his arms again. "Not when he's, like this."

"He's been like this for nearly a month now, with no sign of it ending," Poole explained. "I've never seen him so ill, he insists he's fine but I'm certain he's lying to me. But, whenever I see him, he seems perfectly well, aside from the melancholy." When Lanyon didn't reply she added: "Sir? What do you think?"

Instead, Lanyon answered with a question. "Where did he get that bruising? Around his eye?"

"He told me he fell out of bed," Poole answered. "Why?"

Lanyon's eyes narrowed into a glare, "Would you mind keeping a close eye on Henry for me? Something's wrong."

"Of course. I can, I can write to you-"

"I'll probably be back tomorrow." He sighed, "We need to keep an eye on him. I don't think this is over, not like he says it is."

~

October 28th

Lanyon knows.

He knows of m r. Hyde's crime, and I fear he recognized the bruising on my face. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep up this charade before he discovers my true nature and my connection to Hyde.

When he stated his suspicions, I felt a fear like nothing else, a mix of my own and something foreign. This alone confirms my fears, but in conjunction with my actions against Carew, far more violent and impulsive than I would've ever even considered, shows something far more threatening in development. 

I know well where many of Hyde's impulses come from, but his love of life and lust is completely foreign to me. And how he, part of myself, could be so smitten with that woman, Lilly, while I feel nothing for her astounds me. What began as simply a change of mindset brought on the serum has developed into a completely alternate personality buried within myself, and as I continue treatment it continues to gain strength.

I have discontinued treatment, but already I feel the need to return to the serum. 

I want to feel alive again, but I know I risk losing control or worse, losing myself if I continue treatment. 

I cannot, I will not, I must not.

Time will tell if I have the strength to continue, and I pray to God I will. But I have never felt exhaustion and Melancholy as deep as this, as if I am weighed by anchors meant to ground a ship. It is hard for me to get out of bed, even harder for me to speak with others, and now this sorrow is mixed with fear.

Lanyon, he must not go to the police.

I pray he won't.

I fear my time is running short.

How long before the unhappy story of Henry Jekyll comes to an end? By who's hand?

Will I fall to my sorrow? Will I be consumed by this new, entity that Hyde has become? Will Lanyon turn me over to the police? To the asylum? Will I be able to survive this?


	11. Heart of a Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted Jan 15 2018

Lilly sat on her bed with her back to the wall, staring out the window.

The sun was rising outside, and she could feel exhaustion tugging at her senses, begging her to just go to sleep already, but her thoughts kept her anchored in the waking world. Over and over she thought of Hyde's story, the way he'd spoke, how his whole attitude had changed when he told her. In hindsight, it was obvious what was wrong, but logic battled with emotion for who was right.

A book lay open on her lap, and a pencil in her hand. The pages were filled with poetic scribblings, words crossed out in moments of anger and small flowers drawn in the margins of the pages. Almost impatiently, she tapped the end of the pencil on the page right over one word. A word that had been on her mind all evening, murder.

Edward Hyde was the murderer everyone was talking about, it was obvious. Late? Bruises? Frantic and desperate to spill his guts? There was no way he wasn't!

But what to do with this information? Who to tell?

Lilly's heart told her to stay silent, wait till he came forward on his own and confessed, or keep it secret and keep  _ him  _ forever. Maybe he would come back and stay with her until everything blew over, that's what she hoped for. She wanted to see him, talk to him, pull the truth from that smile of his and find out what was real.

Her mind told her to go to the police, bring justice for Sir Danvers that the Flower Girls never got when they died. The whole of Scotland Yard was already on watch, if she gave them a push in the right direction, she'd be a hero! Or, something.

And so she sat there, deep in thought, wrapped in a thin blanket that smelled like rose perfume. The house creaked tiredly around her, voices of other Flower Girls drifting through the walls along with the smell of food as some went about making their breakfasts. Lilly should've been asleep before dawn and long after noon, yet she could not. Rosie was wrapped in a quilt on her own small bed across the room, snoring occasionally.

Lilly wished she could be more like Rosie, closed off and cold, in it for the money and free of passion, but it was impossible to forget Hyde. Rosie had insisted she forget him, he was a client, not a lover or a partner, Lilly was letting herself get smitten for someone who was going to just leave eventually.

Like every other recurring client ever. 

Rosie's bed creaked and her voice filled the room all of a sudden. "You're  _ still  _ awake Lilly-bell?"

"Yeah," Lilly said, turning and looking to her friend. "I can't stop thinking, about everything." Rosie rolled her eyes, not bothering to sit up from her nest of blankets. "One murder and suddenly everyone's scared out of their wits. Blue-bell was having nightmares of some monster crawling in the window and gutting her, it's been less than a day!"

"She's young and scared, give her a break!" Lilly insisted, frowning.

"Says the woman who still hasn't gotten the hang of letting go," Rosie countered, smirking. She sighed and lay back on her pillow, "They're nothing but clients Lilly, you're hung up on an outlier, a freak of nature, and completely and utterly  _ smitten  _ for the short stack."

Lilly was silent, because Rosie was right. At the thought of him laughing, treating her like a proper lady, not mocking her for her work but being genuinely interested, all of it made her feel warm. Not to mention safe, he who'd fought for her more than once, spilled his secrets and promised to keep hers. He ws an outlier indeed, but was that a bad thing?

"I'm worried, Rosie."

"What about?" When Lilly didn't answer, Rosie sat up and scowled, "Is this about Hyde?"

"Who else would it be about?" Rosie groaned and dropped back onto the bed, "I told you Lilly! Either he's coming back, which means he really does like you, OR he's gone, which is more likely. Either way, you need to not get so hung up on a  _ guy,  _ a client at that!"

"You act like it's so easy," Lilly sighed. She swung her legs off the bed and stood, her dressing gown unfurling as she smoothed it out, her notebook tucked under one arm. "I'm going to get something to eat, you hungry?"

"I'm awake now, I'm coming with you," Rosie groused, getting out of bed. She wrapped her blanket over her undergarments and nodded, "God I hope someone's made tea." 

The two left their room together, Rosie locking it shut behind them as they followed the sounds of morning to the lower levels of the creaky house. They passed a girl in a purple bathrobe, "Morning Lavender."

"Shouldn't you two be asleep?" she countered, smiling.

"Lilly can't sleep, she's  _ smitten _ ," Rosie said, patting Lilly on the shoulder. Lavender laughed, "Well you're not the only one! We've all had that deary."

"Don't act like I'm a child," Lilly said, rolling her eyes. 

"You're in love! Of course you're a child!" Lavender said, smiling before hurrying upstairs. Rosie rolled her eyes, "C'mon Lilly, I smell sausages."

"Great, the same thing we eat every night," Lilly said, rolling her eyes. But she grinned when Rosie let out a single laugh, having finally gotten the joke.

They walked downstairs to a crowded kitchen bathed in morning light. A woman with wide hips and stomach stood at the rickety stove, humming. Andy the bartender sat at the table reading a paper. The only word Lilly saw before he put it down was Murder, because of course.

"Morning ladies," he said with a smile. "Thought you two were usually asleep right now." 

"Morning Mr. C," Rosie said, yawning and dropping into a chair at the table. Lilly sat silently beside her and looked around, the kitchen was cluttered with portraits of Flower Girls and posters advertising the brothel from over the years. She placed her notebook on the table and flipped it open, resuming tapping her pen at the page, at a loss for inspiration. Mrs. C looked over he shoulder at them from the stove and smirked, "Something keeping you up Lilly? You look exhausted."

"She's in looooove," Rosie sang, or attempted to sing. Her singing voice sounded like a broken instrument, cracking and squeaking at the worst of times. 

"I am  _ not _ ," Lilly said with a frown and a knowing look at Rosie. Rosie stuck out her tongue and grinned, "You are and you know it."

"In love?" repeated Mrs. C, looking at her husband and smirking. "Well that's a first for you, isn't it Lilly?"

"It is," Lilly answered sheepishly, putting her head in her hands and her elbows on the table. "I'm worried about, him, because of stuff. What do I do?"

"You let it run its course and move on," Mrs. C said with a smile, sitting at the table with a teapot in her hands. She poured three cups, offering one to Lilly, "Who is this fellow that's got you so melancholy?"

"Edward Hyde, the recurring client I've had for the last month," Lilly said with a sigh, taking the cup. "I'm, I'm worried he's connected with the murder."

Mrs. C raised a brow, "You think your client is a murderer? What makes you think that?" Lilly sipped her tea and the older woman sighed. She nudged Andy, Mr. C, and said: "In the forty years I've been working with the Flower Girls, this is the first time we might've served a murderer!"

"Don't be so excited Melanie, can't you see poor Lilly's been up all night over it?" Andy countered, frowning and flicking open his newspaper. Mrs. C chuckled, "I know. I'm just so tickled, this is the first time Lilly's had this problem, and she's been working with us for almost her whole adult life remember?"

Lilly rolled her eyes and Rosie giggled, nudging Lilly with a smile. "That was after you lost like seven different jobs right?"

"Don't remind me," Lilly said sourly. 

"Lilly, if you need tonight off, you're welcome to stay home," Mrs. C said with a smile. Lilly looked up in surprise, "I, pardon? I can?"

"Don't tell the others, but you're one of my favorites," Mrs. C added with a wink. "I've watched you grow up I mean, and you work so hard, you can take one night off." She smirked, "But I do expect-"

"Of course of course," Lilly said with a sigh.


	12. Detoxifying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jan 06 2018

A week passed at a crawl. Violet noticed the slow quality of the days after two had passed.

She went about her business as usual, sorting mail, cleaning things, cooking food for Henry as he remained in his room. He hadn't seemed to leave his bed, and when asked he wouldn't answer. Poole knew he was still alive, the food she left for him vanished and empty dishes were left outside the room, but he didn't speak to her.

He didn't speak at all, it seemed.

Lanyon visited every day, he seemed incredibly concerned with Henry's well being. He and Violet talked often during these few days, trying to piece together things from the last week. He told Poole about Hyde, how the stranger had acted and what he'd looked like, she told Lanyon about Henry's recent prolonged bout of melancholy. Both of them were worried, deeply so for his sanity and well being, they'd never seen him like this.

Her worry, that had been ordinary for bouts of melancholy past, became a bother now. Every waking moment she was worried for the sanity of her friend of whom she cared for so much. To pass the momets, she baked and cooked and cleaned, but none of it helped. Even caring for Amber, the mouse she'd rescued from Jekyll's experiments, did nothing to quell Poole's unease. Each day her secret whittled away at her heart, and she began to wonder if confessing would make this end, but such thoughts were foolish.

After six days, he emerged from his room and spoke with them.

There were deep bags under his eyes and he hadn't shaved recently, a tiny thing that clearly set Lanyon on edge. His clothes were wrinkled and unclean, yet he'd still remembered his gloves. Upon exiting his room, both Poole and Lanyon embraced him, much to his distaste. He pushed them off, "Enough! Please, I understand your concern but, I'm fine."

"Fine? You look like you've been gravely ill!" Lanyon protested. Jekyll sighed, "What does it matter how I look, I'm quite alright." 

"Sir are you certain? We haven't seen you for days and-"

"I, am, fine," he said sternly, pushing past them towards his lab. "Violet, if you have time, would you mind sending an invitation to Utterson and, as a matter of fact, everyone of the Board at St. Luke's. Actually, anyone we've ever had for a party. I will help prepare dinner tomorrow, but invite them all."

"All of them? Sir?" Poole asked, glancing at Lanyon in confusion. 

Henry ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it to the side before looking back at them with a smile. "I'm finally feeling like myself again. And I miss the company of others. Lanyon! Would you join me in the lab for a while? So we may talk, properly talk."

"Jekyll I-"

"I was irrational, last time we spoke," he said, stepping up to Lanyon. "I, I was furious and upset and more melancholic than I have felt in a long time. Please understand, I didn't intend to snap at you." 

"And you're, feeling better now?" asked Jacob, worried. Henry chuckled, "Not quite old friend, I am still far more exhausted than should be natural. But, I am not afraid anymore, of anyone or of myself. Now come on! Let's speak of more pleasant things! I have been so consumed in my own life that I have not had a chance to ask you how you are! Let's pretend things are ordinary again, yes?"

Lanyon blinked, and slowly allowed himself to smile. "Sure, let's talk."

Poole watched them go, her hands folded against her chest, and she sighed. Not the time, again. It never seemed to be the time. Alas she would work until they had a moment of respite, and then she would tell him. It had been long enough hadn't it?

~

November 4th

The melancholy has lifted slightly, for how long I do not know. But so long as I feel better, I intend to reconnect with my friends.

If Hyde has shown me anything, it is that I cannot risk to lose them. I spend so long bemoaning my own fate I forget that they too have issues and problems. My seeming selfishness could lose me their friendships, so I must make an attempt to reconnect with them. Gabriel and Jacob certainly, and Poole watches me with fear now, I must apologize to her for whatever I did.

Tomorrow I will apologize while I help her cook, for she is the only one here to manage that and many are coming over. I cannot expect her to prepare such a large meal all on her own, and I need to make a larger effort to remain active. Inactivity is driving me mad, yet I cannot bring myself to do much.

And yet! I will! 

I will continue!

If only to spite Hyde and overcome myself! I will continue!

~

It was a little overwhelming, the party. Violet wasn't sure if she'd ever seen this many people in her home before, or rather, in Henry's home. He'd given her a nice petticoat and offered to help her do up her hair, but she denied and dressed in her best anyway. Henry had said they would serve the good wine, the kind he'd saved for a long time.

Why he wanted to serve it now was beyond her, especially considering the kinds of situations he'd refused to serve it at before that had seemed far more important. He must've been celebrating something personal, she guessed, but why wouldn't he have told her what?

She pushed the thoughts from her mind and turned, walking back out into the chaos.

No one noticed her, which of them would? They were high class, the Board members from St. Luke's, friends of Mr. Lanyon's and Mr. Utterson's, people of wealth and status. As far as Violet knew, Dr Jekyll only knew maybe half of them.

The party, if it could even be called that, had a somber air to it. Undoubtedly everyone here was still reeling from the murder of Sir Danvers, not to mention confused as to why the recently shut-in Doctor Jekyll was now hosting a dinner all of a sudden.

After actually eating, Poole had received many compliments regarding her cooking, much to her delight. They did not do much to alleviate her of her anxiety, so many people with their eyes on her. Or ignoring her, it was either one or the other, there was no in between. She was either judged for every action and misstep, or nothing more than background noise.

As she wandered through the crowd, returning to the kitchen often to refill drinks or get some sort of food, she saw Henry through gaps in the people. He was smiling, laughing, chatting easily with his guests. But it was fake, the way he stood was too straight, his gestures seemed too loose, something was distinctly rehearsed to the way he acted, she could see him.

But if this was rehearsed, then any moment he should-

Poole paused as she heard the sound of someone tapping on a crystal glass, the clear ringing making the sound of the room go quiet. Henry stepped up onto a chair, that everyone could see him over the heads of the others. He raised his glass, "Thank you all for coming. I realize not all of us are the, closest of friends, or friends at all, but I sincerely appreciate the company.

"I realize that many of us are still in mourning over the good Sir Danvers Carew, I knew him well. It is unfortunate such a man had to be taken from us because some lunatic found him on the street. It's times like these one must remember how fortunate we are for the time we have, while we have it. And for that I say, to Sir Danvers." He raised his glass in toast, smiling amicably. 

There was a chorus of cheers and agreements, the guests raised their glasses in toast. They didn't notice how confused Violet looked.

In all her time working for Dr. Jekyll, she'd never heard him speak positively of Sir Danvers Carew. In fact, repeatedly he'd actively spoken against Carew, calling him selfish and cruel. Was the death of Sir Danvers making him reconsider? 

Why would he?

Henry stepped down from the table and grinned at Lanyon, "Well? What'd you think?"

"I think you're a bloody liar," Lanyon said with a chuckle. Jekyll shrugged, "I meant what I said. Except for Carew being a good man." They both laughed, not noticing that Poole was nearby.

And she knew something was  _ very _ wrong.

Later, as the guests began to filter out, leaving only Mr. Utterson talking with Dr. Jekyll before the fire, Violet gathered her nerve and approached him. They were discussing Hyde, something about the stranger that Poole had never seen. She cleared her throat and both men looked over to her.

Henry smiled, "Yes Violet?"

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but are you alright?" she asked, folding her hands nervously. His face went slack and he blinked, looking a little surprised, "Yes I, I'm quite fine I assure you, I'm quite at east. A little tired is all, why do you ask?"

Poole hesitated, "I, you, I recall, you never liked Carew. Yet, you lied to everyone at the party."

"It was to keep up appearances," Jekyll said, shrugging. He smiled honestly at Poole and glanced at Utterson, "That's all it was, honest. I assure you, I am fine."

~

November 5th

I feel as if I am crumbling behind this mask that I have made.

Every moment smiling, pretending to be whole and well is torture for I know I cannot ever tell or speak of the desires and secrets eating me from within. I am sinking into some sort of shadow that clouds my thoughts and vision with nothing but death and suicide, I so desperately wish to escape through others but speaking to them does naught to aid me.

I cannot think, I can hardly speak, I feel choked by this guilt within me.

By god, my choices are eating me from the inside out. I have learned things of myself that I ignored before and these new truths are devouring me.

I am desperate for release, for an escape, I will drink the serum but only enough to last tonight. Rather than every night as before, it will be rarer, lesser, a brief window of freedom as opposed to, to...

I want to be him, to be free, but I fear Hyde has become something more than that. 

We shall see, but I cannot continue as solely me.

I need him.


	13. Confessional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally Posted Jan 26 2018

He was running. 

Barely a moment to dress and tie back his hair but he was running.

He needed to tell her, to tell  _ Lilly  _ what was happening. She needed to know everything, he needed her to know,  _ someone needed to know the truth _ .

Edward felt panic coursing through every muscle in his body, he didn't know how long he'd last before Henry rested control back from him, all he knew was that he had to tell Lilly before something worse happened. It was clear now, he was not Henry Jekyll anymore, not completely.

As he formed his own memories, his own experiences, his own regrets, Hyde was becoming more human. More whole wasn't the word for it, he would never be whole so long as Henry depended on that serum, but what did that make him?

Was he only a mask? A delusion? Was that all he amounted to? Was Lilly truly his love if Jekyll hated her so? Where did one man end and the other begin?

Were they even two men? Were they only one anymore?

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, pushing himself to the brink as he ran. His lungs ached and his vision, already fuzzy without his glasses, seemed darker than before. God he just needed to get there, find her and tell her, maybe she'd know something he couldn't. He was only-

Hyde ran full speed into someone, someone small, and both of them fell. The person, a little girl carrying what looked like a letter of some sort, cried out in pain as she fell on her back. Edward's heart stopped in fear, but he didn't hesitate before scrambling to his feet and running again. 

It was barely a second before he heard footsteps following and a hand grabbed him by the collar, stopping him short and choking him on his shirt collar.

"What do you think you're  _ doing? _ " demanded the voice belonging to the hand. "You just ran over a child!" Hyde ripped himself free from the grip, turning fast to face the man.

Immediately he noticed the man's expression turn sour, as if he was looking at something disgusting. Not only was that incredibly rude, but it sent another pang of panic into Edward's heart. Could he know? Could he see the guilt and fear written on Hyde's face for all the world to see?

A woman came out of a house nearby, rushing to the girl and helping her up, a man who'd stopped at the corner for a smoke watched with interest. God they were all like ugly birds, watching and waiting for the cat down below to make a fuss so they can fly away screaming. They all wanted an excuse to do, whatever they wanted to do but Hyde wasn't going to give it to them.

His fear turned to anger and he glared at the man who'd grabbed him, "I realize I ran into the poor girl, but you must be smart enough to realize I wasn't trying to attack her." He looked to the woman who'd helped the child up, her mother certainly, for she now stood between Hyde and the girl in a defensive stance, eyes full of malice.

He recognized that look, that woman wanted him dead. 

So he smiled warmly, a practiced gesture Jekyll had known well, "Is she alright? You must understand I was in a hurry. I didn't see her." The mother said nothing, and though her expression relaxed, that burning fire in her eyes did not. A glance at the man who'd grabbed him revealed a similar expression, malice cased behind a perfect face.

Hyde nodded, "I, apologize dear madam, young madam, and good sir for disturbing your evening." With a smile that surely looked insane, Hyde turned swiftly and continued his sprint before they could catch him.

God damn them all, they had no idea what was going on! They thought they could take one look at him and decide he was someone to hate, they knew nothing! Nothing at all!

This was bigger than their petty gossip, and sure the girl had just gotten caught in the crossfire, but they all hated him for so small an accident!

No time, no time, never enough time!

~

Lilly laughed at her client's drunken joking, her arm linked in his as she walked him back to the tavern. Her demeanor never would've showed it, but she was worried, deeply so.

Eddie had disappeared immediately after the murder, without any word. Lilly's suspicions only got noisier the longer he went without contact and Lilly found herself unable to focus at times. Was he being hunted? Ready to be arrested? 

Was he already gone?

She forced the thoughts aside, he'd probably just run off like every other infatuated client of hers. She didn't care, at least that's what she told herself. 

The noise of the tavern pulled her out of her own head and made her smile easier. She led the drunkard to the door and, not so gently, pushed him back onto the street. Rosie was standing at the corner and raised a delicate eyebrow at Lilly as she joined her under the lamp.

"Lilly-bell, is something wrong?" asked the petite Flower Girl. Lilly sighed, resuming her stoic expression, "I'm fine."

"I didn't ask if you were fine," Rosie said, pouting. "It's about Hyde isn't it?"

"Why would it be about Hyde?" Lilly countered, scowling. "I'm over him."

"You were smitten with that short stack," Rosie said, tapping Lilly on the shoulder. "I saw the way you looked at him, how dreamy you got when you talked about him, he was somethin' really special to ya!"

"We discussed this, it was a puppy crush, he was not."

"He was! And he liked you too! I could see it!" Rosie declared. Lilly's expression went slack, "What? You, you really think so?"

"Think so? I know so! Return clients don't bring flowers usually," Rosie said with a smile. Lilly blinked, "Flowers?"

"Ay! I saw him leaving this little flower shop a few blocks away with a huge bouquet of lilies about a week ago," she explained, gesturing randomly with her hands. "I can only imagine they were for you."

Lilly felt her face get hot and she smiled, "For me? He bought flowers for me?"

"The two of your are smitten!" Rosie declared. "He cares about you Lilly-bell, or at least he did." She reached into a pocket on her dressed and pulled out a canteen, taking a swig from it before offering it to Lilly. "Thirsty?"

"No."

"But you are worried. Drink up girly, you need to relax." Lilly sighed and took the canteen, taking a drink of the strong whiskey and coughing hard. Rosie laughed and took back her drink, "Forgot you were a lightweight."

"LILLY!" came a loud, desperate voice. The Flower Girls looked up to see Edward Hyde racing for them, he wore little more than a dress shirt and coat, with no elegant hat or cape to be seen. The circles under his eyes seemed noticeably darker, and he looked terrified.

His face went pale white as he stumbled over the uneven pavement, falling flat onto his face and rolling with a shout of pain. Lilly made a noise of surprise and ran over, lifting him to his feet. "My God, Eddie are you okay?"

He held tight to her arms as she lifted, his hands icy and his grip like iron, "Lilly, we need to talk,  _ now _ ." He looked up and she saw desperation in his eyes, an unfamiliar fear that sent a shiver down her spine. She looked to Rosie, who nodded. "Go on, I'll tell Mrs. C you got sick, don't worry about it."

"Thank you Rosie," Lilly said, smiling honestly as she pulled Hyde to his feet. She started to walk inside the tavern when his grip tightened, "We, we need to speak somewhere private, okay? I, this can't, no one can know but you."

Lilly's heart sank, had he killed Carew then? Was he a murderer?

Was she about to die?

"Of course, we'll go up to my room, is that private enough?"

"That'll do," he said somberly.

Lilly nodded and they walked inside, and though she appeared calm she wanted to panic. It wasn't like she'd never had a dangerous client before, it was shy she kept a blade under the mattress in her room. More than once a disgruntled client, who thought she'd rat him out to the public, had tried to gut her or shoot her, only to end up missing an eye, or a finger.

This was different, because it was wrong.

Edward was dead silent while the two of them walked upstairs. Lilly's worry became less her own, and more for him. He who had been so talkative and full of laughter, curious and wondering, was now as quiet as a corpse. His hands were shaking, he couldn't seem to stop moving, looking around fearfully without a sound. What had happened to silence such a lively spirit?

Lilly unlocked the door to her rented room and pushed it open, "Sorry it's a mess, I was just-"

"Doesn't matter," Hyde said, striding in. He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. Lilly followed slowly, shutting the door and turning up a lamp sitting on a table by the door. "What is it? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"I don't know anymore," he sighed. He looked up at her and the shadows under his eyes seemed even darker, "Lilly, I  _ killed  _ a man, and I don't even know why! Indeed I hated him but, there was no reason for me to, to just kill him!"

Lilly didn't move, her eyes locked on Edward, frozen with fear. He saw this and sighed, "God I've ruined everything. I had a chance, and now it's gone. I don't, I don't even know why."

"Why, why did you tell me that?" Lilly asked, hearing her own voice shake in fear. She put her back to the door, "I could go to the police, you know, get you arrested."

"But you won't," he said, sounding and looking more exhausted than she'd ever seen him before. 

"How do you know?"

"You keep a knife under the mattress, I'm not the most intimidating thing you've dealt with." He chuckled weakly, "And it's so much worse than that Lilly, my hate for that man wasn't even  _ mine _ ."

A moment of silence as Lilly tried to understand what he meant. "Who's was it?"

"It belongs to Doctor Henry Jekyll. I, I didn't, I didn't  _ want  _ to kill him, but I couldn't stop." Lilly blinked, her posture relaxing slightly. This statement didn't make her trust him more, but somehow it made her less scared. Silently, she sat on the bed beside him and put a hand on his knee, "I've heard of Jekyll."

"Of course you have, everyone around here has," he said somberly, folding his arms. "They know what he wants them to, his perfect status, his intelligence, his craft, all of the goodness. They don't know what he's really like."

"And he's really like what?"

"Selfish, generous, manic, depressed, all at once and I don't understand!" Hyde's voice cracked as he spoke, covering his face to hide his pain.

Lilly sighed heavily, every thing he said made her more and more confused. She wanted to help him, to ease whatever what hurting him so, but she couldn't unless she understood. "Eddie, you're not making sense."

"Of course! How could  _ I _ make sense when  _ it _ doesn't!" he cried, standing and turning to face her, his expression desperate. Lilly leaned back in surprise, raising a hand in defense automatically. "Lilly, I don't know how and I don't know why, but I  _ am  _ Doctor Jekyll." 

"You're, Jekyll?" she repeated, frowning in confusion. "But, are you not Edward Hyde?"

"I, I don't know." He dragged his hands down his face, "In the beginning I was Jekyll hiding behind a mask, doing whatever he wanted while pretending to be someone else because a special serum Jekyll created made him look like this, I was him then! We were the same person with different faces but then I met you and we became friends and, the more I lived the more separated I became from Jekyll and I don't know how much of him I still am or if I'm even someone else or, I don't know."

Lilly stared at him, watching him drop his hands and sigh deeply. "I, have no idea who I am." She frowned, made a gentle humming noise and pat the bed, "Edward, sit."

He nodded and sat, looking to her hopefully, as if she would give him some deep wisdom. Lilly took a breath and said: "I only understood part of what you just said. But, what I got, was that you and Jekyll, are two men in the same body?"

"Something like that," he said with a tired voice.

"But, it didn't start like that, did it?"

"No."

Lilly nodded slowly, turning the ideas over in her mind, "Right, well, in my opinion, you're not Doctor Jekyll. I know for a fact a man like that wouldn't dare spend time with a lady like myself, or buy her flowers." Hyde looked up in surprise. "Or, for that matter, kill a man."

"That's why I'm not sure how much I am my own person," Edward said, running a hand through his hair. "That hate for Carew that drove me to attack him after the smallest infraction, it is Jekyll's, and yet it is mine for his past is my past. I, I don't know where one of us ends and the other begins."

"I don't think that's something you, or I, can figure out," Lilly said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Is, is that why you were gone for so long?"

"I, Henry, was terrified of losing control after what happened with Carew," Edward said solemnly. "We, he swore off using the serum, but became so depressed he  _ had  _ to and, I came to see you the first moment I could."

"You, really?" Lilly felt herself smiling.`

"Of course! I had to tell you that, I-" his rubbed his eyes furiously, "I, I don't know when I'll return, or even if I will after this. Part of me is terrified by the idea of being someone brand new, uncontrolled, and the rest just... Doesn't want to disappear." He looked to Lilly, tears in his eyes, clearly trying not to cry. "I don't want to disappear Lilly."

She smiled sadly and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, but said nothing. What could she say? That she wouldn't let him disappear when the choice was out of her hands completely? That she'd be there for him when she barely understood what was going on?

She could only be there for him now, probably.

"I'll miss you, if you do disappear," she said honestly. Hyde looked up at her, cheeks wet, voice soft and trembling, "Really? You would miss a killer like me?"

"I consider vengeance a valid reason for murder," she said, smirking back. " _ If,  _ they're a total monster of a person, and I've heard enough rumors about that Carew fellow. Besides, I keep a knife under my mattress remember?" Lilly leaned forward and kissed his forehead, "Even if you vanish forever, I'm never going to forget Edward Hyde."

"That so?"

"That's so." He sighed and leaned on her shoulder again, "Thank you Lilly. Thank you."

~

November 6th 

Hyde has become his own entity, and he is realizing it.

I cannot take the serum again, ever, regardless of how far I sink. He fears death, disappearing from this world, but he has no control to stop me from erasing him completely from this life.

Hyde will not return, I refuse to let him. 

He told that  _ woman _ Lilly everything, everything that she would understand but now she knows who I am.

Who I really am.

Utterson seems to have suspicions brought on by Lanyon. He told me that the two of them have been worrying for my sake, that Hyde has some sort of secret or that he should murder me. I intend to talk over the will again, change it back from being exclusively Hyde and Poole.

All evidence of him must be destroyed, it must!

That woman, Lilly, she  _ knows though.  _ I cannot rightfully get rid of her, be it by arresting her or having her committed, for in my heart I know she's sane and done no wrong. And yet she alone could have  _ me  _ arrested if she so chose.

Though she promised to Hyde she would not, she cares for that shell of a man and he for her. And yet I do not. Why do I not?

I

I simply cannot.

I cannot, and I know this to be true. My heart has been frozen by this melancholy for years, my own selfishness has made it impossible for me to truly love an

I must sleep. I cannot continue tonight, I am exhausted beyond measure.


	14. Thanatophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted Feb 10 2018

He stood at the edge of a cliff.

A wide, bottomless void in an empty space the color of night, filled with unusual buzzing sound waited before.

Something like voices, darting in and out, half finished thoughts, words and music that flowed together and never ceased. Names and places, images, a nonstop source of sound that he couldn't seem to find.

Curious, he sat at the edge of the gap and looked in, peering towards the emptiness with no hope of seeing the bottom, but no reward came without risk. What was down there? Could He find out if He jumped? What would happen if He did jump? There was a rope nearby, maybe He could climb down?

"You wouldn't use it to climb down," a voice said. He jumped in surprise, nearly falling over the edge before stumbling back in fear, turning fast to see a shadow standing behind. The shadow wore glasses that glinted in the half light and dark gloves, "You wouldn't use the rope like that. You know  _ exactly  _ what you'd do with the rope."

"I, I wouldn't?" He answered, confused.

"You're damn right you wouldn't! Not when there's so much to live for!" snapped a new voice. He turned again to see another shadow, a shadow with bright hair tied by a purple ribbon and shining blue eyes. "There's so much to explore, use it to climb!"

"It's not real," the one with the gloves stated, "I  _ am _ . You must listen to me. Take that rope, and finish this."

"NO!" the blue eyed one cried.

He looked confusedly between the two of them, unsure who to listen to, who's voice was His own? Who was He to trust?

"I'll hold the rope for you when you jump," the one wearing gloves continued, picking it up in its dark hands, beginning to tie a knot. "That way, you won't fall farther than you need to. It'll be quick, nearly painless."

"Liar!" the one with blue eyes shouted from across the void, unable to cross. "It's lying to you! It'll kill you and you'll never find out what's down there! Don't you want to know?" He blinked, staring at the one with blue eyes. He, trusted that voice.

"I do want to know," He answered, smiling a little and looking down into the void. "What, what could be down there?"

"You'll never know if you listen to  _ him! _ " the blue eyed one snapped, pointing to the one wearing gloves. The gloved one rolled its eyes, "How should it know? It's nothing more than a shadow of  _ us _ , Henry, we have work to do." 

Henry blinked, his own name sounding hollow and false in his ears, as if it wasn't his name. He felt the rope get pressed into his hands and the gloved one nodded slowly, "You know what we must do to end this."

"Henry! Please!" the blue eyed one cried, sounding desperate and terrified. It reached out over the void towards him, as if offering his hand, "Jump! I'll catch you! We'll explore this place together!  _ Alive _ !"

Henry stepped forward, but the gloved one put a hand on his shoulder, halting him. "You won't. It's a murderer, remember?"

He did remember, and yet he wanted to go to this stranger, this killer, rather than stay here. The one with the gloves sighed and took the rope from Henry's hands, tying it in place around his neck. "Come now, that thing wants to doom us, you must  _ think  _ Henry. To achieve peace, we must do this."

Henry was frozen, his own hand slowly going to his throat, shaking. The gloved one put a hand on his back and gently pushed him to the edge of the gap, "One step and it'll all be over, remember?" Henry tried to answer, but he couldn't.

He couldn't move. 

The empty space before him loomed beneath, infinitely deep and dark, a true void. The one with the blue eyes screamed out to him: "Snap out of it Henry! Get back! You're going to  _ kill yourself like this! _ "

When Henry didn't move, the one with the gloves sighed again. It placed a hand comfortingly on Henry's back, "I knew you wouldn't have the courage to do this. How could I expect that of you? No one should be expected to do this on their own." And he pushed Henry forward, "That's why I'm here though, isn't it?"

Henry lurched forward over the gap, his balance thrown to the wind as his foot slipped over the edge and he began to fall. The blue eyed one screamed out to him, Henry tried to speak but he could not. He reached out for something, anything to hold onto, even reaching for the rope tied around his throat in desperation.

"You deserve the gallows Henry Jekyll."

And it was too late. 

The one with the gloves had a strong grip on the rope, and it stopped Henry's fall just short enough. A minute passed and the gloved one lat the rope slip through its hands, dropping the body into the darkness like dead weight.

~

His eyes snapped open and he sat up in fear, chest heaving as he tried desperately to catch his breath. A hand went to his throat where the phantom ache of the nightmare remained, but there was no sign of a rope. He sighed heavily and lay back down, staring at the ceiling of the room above, bathed in morning light.

It had been a dream, whatever it was. A nightmare at that, but it hadn't happened. He wasn't dead, he didn't want to die, he wasn't going to die any time soon if he had any choice about it.

Then he paused, frowning in confusion as he reached for his glasses on the bed-stand. Something was wrong with the mirror to the side of the bed, the reflection was the wrong color. He slipped on his glasses, paused and stared.

The reflection staring back at him was  _ not  _ Henry Jekyll.

It was Edward Hyde.

~

Poole hummed softly to herself as she swept. Two days after the dinner party and she was still finding an absurd amount of dust on the floors and things pushed out of place around the house. Someone even pushed a plate beneath the sofa and she hadn't found it until this morning! Thank God she had or it'd have started to stink the place up soon!

A scream tore through the house and Violet jumped, gripping her broom like a lifeline as she stared up the stairs in horror. A beat passed and she heard pounding footsteps, sprinting from the bedroom to the laboratory, and her heart sank in fear. Had he tried that medicine again? Lithium, Henry had called it, had he-

No, he remembered what happened, didn't he?

She thought of his actions after the last time he'd tried that medicine and her heart sank even further, all he knew was that it had been terrifying for her and devastating for him. Henry didn't know about how violent he'd become, how he'd ranted about Carew's corruption and how life seemed turned against him. He didn't know how he'd nearly attacked her for asking if he was alright and how she had to sedate him with his own chemicals until the medicine had worn off.

God, that night had been something out of a nightmare.

Had it returned?

Poole swallowed hard and hurried for the stairs, clutching her broom. Her duty in this household was as the maid, but that was followed shortly by as a friend to the doctor, and her own personal duty was to be loyal and prove herself worthy of him. She owed it to him at least to make sure he didn't kill himself by doing something moronic,  _ again.  _

__ That reminder did nothing to quell her fear though and she was shaking profusely as she stood before the door to the laboratory. Timidly she knocked: "D-doctor Jekyll? Henry? A-are you in there?" 

On the other side of the door, Edward Hyde froze with fear. He panicked, trying to remember his voice as Henry before saying: "I, I'm fine Violet. A little, startled from a dream is all. I-if you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone for a while."

Violet frowned, that didn't sound like Henry, not quite like him. It sounded, raspier, as if he had a sore throat or something. "Sir are you sick?"

"No no no! I, uneasy, you know." Hyde slipped over to the door and locked it, "I, I assure you Poole, I am fine! I just need, some time."

"Are you certain sir?" That was not Henry Jekyll answering her, and Poole felt fear creep into her heart as she listened.

"Positive!" He smiled awkwardly, silently praying she'd leave, and only when she said: "I'll be downstairs if you need anything then," did he relax. He didn't know she was hurrying downstairs to work somewhere far from the lab until this had passed, fearful of some sort of retribution against her brought on by the lithium medicine.

Hyde slumped against the door and slid to the ground, staring again at the ceiling in disbelief. His mind raced for a solution, spitting out half finished thoughts and ideas with frantic rapidity that was, more than a little unsettling. He hadn't drank the serum in his sleep had he? God even he wasn't that stupid.

But then how was Hyde here  _ now? _ The transformation shouldn't take place without the potion as a catalyst, so  _ how? _

__ Could it have been the dream?

Edward's hand went to his throat and he traced his fingers along his throat, thinking hard about the dream. It took a moment, but then it all came back clear to him, down to the last second before the rope went taught.

Jekyll was going to kill him, good God was that really the plan? No, ridiculous! Henry just wasn't going to take the potion anymore, problem solved right? He wasn't ready to take his own life, was he?

Edward looked at his hands, it was already obvious that the problem would not be solved so simply. It was also obvious, Hyde  _ was  _ the problem. 

He wilted, putting his face in his hands and staring at the ground between his feet. Everything felt as if it were spinning, a vortex around him pulling him into his chest, and his thoughts raced from one extreme to another, all of them through a lense of unadulterated fear. Hyde squeeze his eyes shut, forcing himself to breathe slowly, to focus on the feeling of his hair in his hands, to return.

What was he going to do? Anything he did, Henry could reverse, and vice versa. If the transformations were occuring on their own, what then? 

Then he had a chance to fight for his life.

Everything paused and Hyde sat up a little straighter. Jekyll's life was his too, and if Henry wanted so badly to die then he would die by Hyde's hand before he hung himself like a gutted pig. Edward nodded slowly, his expression becoming cold and determined, he was not going to vanish that easily. 

Not when he had a chance to survive, to  _ fight _ .

A sharp pain shot through his back hand Hyde's heart stopped in fear, he didn't have long. He scrambled to his feet and ran to the desk, pulling out a spare paper and his pen. Frantically he began to write, his hands shook violently and he could feel the ache of the transformation spreading into his bones, but he had to finish.

His legs gave out before he could finish and his head slammed into the table as he dropped, clinging to it for support before dropping to the ground. In a vivid moment, he felt Henry's melancholy weigh in as the energy was sapped from his muscles and he dropped to the ground. 

And then suddenly, Hyde was gone.

Jekyll lay there, breathing heavily, his body aching in a thousand ways, and slowly tears began to bubble in his eyes. He choked down a sob and covered his face, curling up tighter in on himself as the pain faded and the sobs broke free from his chest.

God he was so scared, the nightmare hadn't ended when he'd awoke.

Who was he anymore?

~

Crying, that's what the sound was.

Poole stopped sweeping and looked toward the lab, where so clearly the sounds of sobs were leaking through the door and through the floorboard. She felt her own throat close up sympathetically, "Oh Henry, I'm so sorry you must go through with this melancholy." She sighed and placed the broom in the closet, shutting the door silently.

This was not the first time she'd heard him cry, but it was the first time he hadn't sought her out. A shoulder to cry on was not something to be overlooked, and Violet did so love the times when she could bring him some sort of solitude and comfort. 

What fear she had earlier melted away as she continued to clean silently, taking up a feather duster and beginning work on the parlor shelves.

Loyal and dedicated, if she could not be a friend or, dare she think of it, a wife, she could be a loyal and dedicated servant regardless. Time would pass, if he needed her he'd call or come find her, as he had so many times before. She paused her work and sighed, perhaps that's all she was to him. 

It's likely that's all she was to him.

She cared more for him than he for her, and that thought alone brought a cold feeling to her heart that no thought of warmth could shoo away.

Violet heard the door unlock and stiffened, the following footsteps were soft and quiet. The parlor was dusty, and she'd made it through two of the bookshelves, but she no longer had her protective broom to fight back should something go wrong. The footsteps navigated down the stairs and paused outside the parlor door.

They were followed by a gentle, timid knock.

Poole walked over and pulled the door open, her heart sank into her shoes. "Doctor?" 

He stepped forward and hugged her, she could feel him shaking heavily. Gently, she embraced him and asked: "Henry, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," he whispered, holding her tighter. "Just, don't let me leave."

"Alright?" Poole answered, frowning in confusion. 

"Promise, you  _ must  _ promise."

"I promise." Though she didn't know what she was promising too, she intended to keep it. Despite what that might've entailed, she didn't intend to abandon a close friend in his time of need. She tried her best to comfort him, and felt the warmth resonate in her heart once again, she would be loyal and dedicated if nothing else.

If nothing else.


	15. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted March 2 2018

November 9th

I have lost control over the transformations, I am at the mercy of Hyde. I sleep and wake up as he, only to become myself after minutes or hours. These transformations are more painful than ever before, as if brought forth by some inner power.

I know it is Hyde, he does not want to vanish, to  _ die _ , and is determined to make himself the dominant personality. I must find a cure for my serum, but I know not how much time I have. Already Hyde is taking control for longer and longer periods of time and I can feel myself slipping into a sort of delirium as I refuse to sleep. I can only stave off the transformations by making and imbibing the serum, but it is slowly losing an effect.

My melancholy becomes louder and harder to repress the longer I stay awake, and I find myself considering death more and more often. I fear for my sanity, but I cannot rest until I find the cure to this new condition which so besieges my psyche.

I cannot live with the guilt weighing on my soul, for let it be known that I, conscious in mind and body, aware of my actions and consequences, murdered Sir Danvers Carew while under the assumed guise of Edward Hyde. He panicked, I panicked, I cannot recall who was who following the event, but the fact remains that  _ I  _ murdered Carew.

I do not fear running out of the mineral salt, I have much of it remaining, more than I'll ever need.

But I need time.

_ There isn't enough time. _

~

"You're, certain he isn't well?" Lanyon asked, looking up at Jekyll's door with a frown. Violet nodded, "I'm certain, he's never acted this way before. His voice doesn't sound like him at times and I can hear him working at all hours of the night."

"Are you sure it isn't his, er, mania?" asked Utterson, folding his arms and looking at Poole with a raised eyebrow. She scowled, "You're making fun of me aren't you? I know this isn't his mania because he comes to me when he feels like that, he rants, he raves and he creates. This is, different."

"This  _ is _ the third time in as many weeks as he's contacted me to rewrite his will," Utterson said, frowning. 

"He's been writing many things," Violet added, folding her arms and looking up at the lab door. "I haven't been able to get him to eat, to leave the lab, it's like he's terrified of coming out."

"He is," Lanyon said suddenly, making them look to him. 

"What? How do you know?"

"I don't." He turned and began to climb the stairs, Poole called out to him: "Wait! Mr. Lanyon! He doesn't want to be disturbed-"

"Then I ought to go disturb him shouldn't I?" Lanyon asked, looking down at the two of them. There was a stone-cold look in his eyes, he wasn't going to listen to them. "Let's just keep it between me and him though, shall we?"

Neither of them answered, so Jacob turned and climbed up the stairs. 

He stopped in front of the door to listen and consider, should he really do this? He'd known Henry long enough to know it was best not to disturb him when worse came to worse, but this was beyond worse. It had something to do with Hyde, but Lanyon didn't know what.

And he wanted answers.

Jacob stepped up to the door and knocked, "Henry! We need to speak."

No response came from within, so he turned the knob and opened the door. Honestly expecting it to be locked, he was surprised when the door swung open. He stepped in, "Henry?"

There was a shifting sound and he turned to look, his heart stopping as he saw Hyde bent over the desk, looking over what looked to be small piles of salt, Jekyll's glasses on his nose. Hyde stiffened and looked back, "You."

"You," Lanyon repeated, shutting the door behind. "What're you doing here? Where's Henry?"

"I thought he'd locked the door," Edward said, straightening. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, tied back with a ribbon yet messier than ever. "I, he's, I'm working on it."

"Working on it?" repeated Lanyon, frowning. Hyde sighed, chewing nervously on his lip, "It's, complicated. Lanyon, Henry has made a dire error that could cost him his life."

"What are you  _ talking  _ about?" Jacob demanded. "Where in God's name is  _ Henry? _ "

"I'll show you!" Hyde snapped back, suddenly furious. "I'm trying to tell you! You'll only believe it if you see, won't you? And if  _ he  _ tells you. So I guess you'll have to decide!" He grabbed a test tube from the desk and held it before him, "This! This serum is Henry's undoing, and you will see why!"

"Hyde what are you-" but before Lanyon could finish, Hyde had ripped out the cork and swallowed the serum whole. He threw the test tube aside and it shattered, "He did this! All for himself yet he wants to destroy it, destroy  _ me, _ because it didn't go according to plan!"

Hyde laughed hysterically, his face pale, "If it goes against the plan what point is there? That's all he can think of, taking back control." He looked at Lanyon, his eyes wide with fear and voice suddenly quiet, "Jacob, you don't understand, I don't want to die yet it's all  _ he  _ desires. If anything goes wrong we both die and I don't have a choice. I fear for my life even though the choice to die is not mine."

He stepped forward and grabbed Lanyon by the lapels, "You must decide Lanyon,  _ save  _ Henry."

"Save him? From what?" Lanyon asked, grabbing Hyde's wrists. Edward's face crumpled, "Himself."

Hyde cried out in pain and collapsed in Lanyon's arms, shaking violently as the other man tried to gently lay him to the ground. Lanyon stepped back in fear, watching with wide eyes as the long, light hair became darker, withering into a shorter, familiar style, though the facial hair did not change. The sound of shifting bones made his stomach turn and Lanyon covered his ears, watching horrified as the clothes that seemed to swamp Hyde not a moment ago, now fit the figure before him. The ribbon that had tied back Edward's hair now sat limp on the ground beside an exhausted looking Henry Jekyll, breathing as though he'd run miles, looking ready to vomit.

Jacob stood there, frozen, as his friend sat up with a groan of pain. Henry coughed hard and looked up at Lanyon with those big watery eyes of his, "Jacob... I, I'm so sorry."

"What've you  _ done  _ Henry?" Lanyon asked, pressing his back to the door.

"Lanyon this was never-"

"You're a  _ murderer  _ Jekyll!"

Jekyll got to his feet and when he spoke, his voice was cold, yet shaken. "I am not the murderer, Hyde is."

"You  _ are  _ Hyde, Henry," Lanyon said, his shoulders slumping. "You've been lying to us this  _ whole  _ time?"

"Only about him being another person," Henry insisted. "He has become another mind, he is no longer another face of me."

"But that implies that at some point he was," Jacob said, standing straighter. "And how am I to know that the separation you speak of was before or after the murder?"

"I did not kill Carew."

"I don't know that, I can't know that so long as we only have your word for it. You, you  _ despised  _ him, Jekyll, you would kill him in a heartbeat," Lanyon seethed, balling his fists. The ungratefulness, the injustice, the lying and the breaking of old promises, he could not excuse it, not anymore. "I'll have no more of your lies Jekyll, you'll get no help from me."

"Lanyon I'm, Hyde is going to consume me!" Henry protested, reaching for his friend again. Lanyon shoved his hand away, "Maybe for the better, at least he was  _ honest. _ "

" _ Honest _ ?" Jekyll snapped, becoming enraged, "He never told you more than I did! He never confessed to you the murder!"

"But he did admit he was criminal, that he was blackmailing you," Lanyon snapped, baring his teeth. "I only wish I'd known just how honest he was being."

"You speak of honesty and I know you're a man of justice, why do you trust him more than  _ me? _ " Henry demanded, tears bubbling in his eyes. "Jacob I am falling apart at the seams, Hyde is tearing apart, you must-"

"I don't have to do anything!" Lanyon turned and ripped open the door, "I don't owe you anything Henry. You used my trust against me, you used all of our trust so you could play some game with your chemicals. As I see it, your punishment is fit for murder, for lying like this. This is your grave, you dug it and you'll lie in it."

"Jacob!" 

The lab door slammed close and Lanyon leaned on it, putting a hand over his eyes to steady himself. He heard footsteps below and looked to see Poole and Gabriel hurrying to the bottom of the stairs.

"We heard the door, and the shouting, what's wrong?" asked Utterson. Lanyon sighed, stood, and walked silently down the stairs. Poole reached out and touched his arm, "Mr. Lanyon? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said numbly. "I've got to go. Leave Henry to his business, he's beyond us now."

"Beyond us?" repeated Utterson, taking Lanyon by the arm. "Lanyon, something must be wrong, we have to-"

"We owe him nothing, he used us," Lanyon said sourly, pulling his arm free. He looked back at the door and glared, "Henry has dug himself a grave deeper than we can save him from. I can only pray that he can save himself, because I don't plan to help him."

"Lanyon-" 

He stormed to the door, shoving it open and hurrying into the street. Utterson looked from the door to Jekyll's lab to after Lanyon, "Lanyon! Wait!"

The door slammed shut and Poole was left alone in the foyer, her hands folded together nervously. She wrung her hands, looking up at the lab with fear in her heart, and took a deep breath. Despite what Mr. Lanyon said, someone had to do something.

She hurried up the stairs, holding her dress up with both hands as she jogged up to the door of the lab. She knocked politely, "Dr. Jekyll? Mr. Lanyon said something was wrong, are you okay?"

"I'm far from fine, but you must not bother me," she heard a tired voice say from the other side. Violet leaned on the door, "Sir we've been through this before, you cannot expect me to not be concerned when you cut yourself off like this."

"And you must understand Violet, I  _ must  _ be alone now," she heard him say, his voice somber and on the immediate other side of the door. 

"I can't allow that sir, considering your past habits," she said, feeling her own wrist and remembering the scars on his.

"Poole, please."

"Dr. Jekyll, I cannot leave you like this. Sir, I lo-"

"You MUST!" he snapped suddenly, slamming a hand on the door. Violet jumped back from the door, staring in fear, trembling like a flower before a raging storm. "Sir?"

"Please... Leave me be." 

Poole blinked, her panicked heart slowing as she sighed deeply. "Of course, sir. I'm sorry." And with that, she turned and walked downstairs, arms folded and heart heavy.

What was wrong with him? What had happened?


	16. Four Letters, Three Read

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted March 23 2018

Violet found four letters addressed to various people outside Jekyll's lab not two days later. One of them was for her, and she opened it first. It had multiple pages, but the first one had instructions.

_ My dearest Violet Poole,  _

_ I sincerely apologize for my behavior in recent days, but you must trust me once more and follow these instructions to the letter. Regardless of what you hear beyond the door, do not unlock it. Deliver these letters to whom they are addressed to as soon as night falls, and make it clear they are to be read tomorrow, or at least after midnight tonight.  _

_ At the same time, do not read the other papers enclosed in this letter until then. _

_ When this is all through, everything will be for the better. But you  _ **_must_ ** _ trust me. _

__ The seriousness of the instructions alone convinced Violet not to read the rest of her letter. As night began to fall, she put on her coat, casting wary glances at the door to the lab. Still unlocked, she'd gone in twice and both times found Jekyll at his desk, writing something. Both times, he'd also told her to leave in a voice that sounded more tired than she'd ever heard.

The first letter was addressed to Mr. Utterson, and he lived nearby, but Violet didn't waste her time on the street between her home and his, lest someone think the worst of her. Mr. Utterson was glad to see her and more than willing to wait to read the letter, he seemed genuinely worried about Dr. Jekyll, especially so after Poole explained his recent behavior.

The second was an address in a part of London that scared Violet, but on she trekked. The house was tall and full of light, there were flowers painted on the frail looking door. Violet swallowed hard and rang the doorbell, waiting patiently as footsteps on the other side unlocked the door.

The woman who pulled open the door was wearing a scanty satin robe and her hair was done up in a tall, curly mess. She raised a brow, "You're a bit old to be applying as a Flower Girl. What do you want?"

Poole drew herself up straighter, stifled her courage, and held out the letter, "This is for a Miss Lilly, I have been tasked with delivering it before midnight and so I will-" the woman took the letter and examined it, her lips pursing in thought. "Thanks sweetheart, I'll take it from here." 

And the door was rudely shut in Violet's face. She gasped, "Why, how rude!"

As she turned to go though, the door was pulled open and a voice called: "Edward??"

Violet turned and saw a dark skinned woman in a long sleeved gown clutching the letter in her hand. Poole sighed, "No, I'm sorry."

"Who are you?" asked the woman, likely the Lilly to whom the letter was addressed. 

"Violet Poole, Dr. Jekyll's house keeper," she answered. The woman's eyes went wide and she ran out to meet Violet on the street, "Please, I need to know Jekyll's address, I must speak with him!"

Uneasy, Violet told her the address and Lilly nodded firmly. "Thank you."

She turned and hurried back into the house, tearing open the letter as she went. Poole saw the door slam shut and frowned in confusion, "Did she expect Hyde? Curious." And no respect for being asked to wait to open a letter, honestly. "Some women!"

The final letter was addressed to Mr. Lanyon, and Violet was nervous as she knocked on the door. She swallowed hard, shifting from foot to foot as she heard the door unlock. Mr. Jacob Lanyon pulled open the door and looked at her, frowning deeply.

There were dark bags under his eyes and he wore naught but his shirtsleeves and trousers. He looked positively exhausted.

Violet offered him the letter, "For you, sir. Not to be opened until midnight." Lanyon looked to the letter, slowly taking it with a frown. His eyes flicked back up to Poole's, and then he shrugged.

To her horror, he began to tear it open right in front of her. "Sir! Dr. Jekyll insis-"

"I don't care what petty games he's playing with making it wait," Lanyon said, leaning on the door frame as he pulled out the letter. "It is paper, it will not change between now and then, it makes no difference if I read it now or later."

"You have no respect for Jekyll's wishes?" asked Violet, perturbed. Lanyon glanced at her, and his stare in a deadpan voice answered: "No."

She watched him read the letter, bitterness slowly turning into confusion as his face went slack and eyes wide with fear. He shoved the first page of the letter into her hands, the rest becoming crumpled in his hand, " _ Read it. _ "

And he ran inside the house.

Violet frowned, unfolding the rumpled paper and reading it.

_ My dearest, Jacob, _

_ My deepest apologies for everything I have said to you in recent days. You must understand I was in no condition to be any sort of gentleman. My own mind has been tearing itself apart, but I have decided to take it into my own hands and end this tonight. _

_ By the time you read this I will be dead by my own hand. _

_ I cannot stand myself, let alone the man wrestling for control of my mind. This is a fight that has gone on long before I created that serum, you know me well enough to know that. Please understand this is in no way your fault, this was going to happen regardless of you, or Hyde, or Poole or _

__ Violet folded the paper where the letter ended and looked into the house, her heart beginning to race in fear and anxiety. Mr. Lanyon was frantically pulling on a coat and shoes, the rest of the letter had been discarded on a table beside the stairs. He hadn't read any of it.

But it didn't matter, it was nearly half past ten and they were nearly three miles from home. They had to hurry if they wanted to save him, if they even wanted a chance. Lanyon took Violet by the hand, "We can't let him do this."

She nodded numbly and they took off at a run, still holding hands, and Poole still clutching Jekyll's letter to her chest.

~

Lilly's eyes darted over the page of her letter, and she found herself smiling. Even so clearly fearing for his life, he wrote  _ to her  _ to express his love, how he thought of her and wanted to spend every moment with her.

That woman, Jekyll's housekeeper, Lilly would see her again. Even now, as she read Hyde's letter, her heart full of warmth, she was planning to pay a visit to this doctor. She was going to tell him exactly what she thought of Hyde, what she thought of him, and get some more answers. Better yet, maybe she could convince the selfish doctor to, reconsider things.

The last page of her letter was not Hyde's handwriting, and though it was similar, it was distinctly neater. 

_ Dear Miss Lilly, _

_ We are not acquainted, and we never will be at this point. _

_ I realize you and Hyde had something of a relationship, and I am only partly disappointed to tell you that you will not be seeing Edward Hyde again. He has caused me much pain and melancholy, so I am taking a step in ending both of our suffering before anyone else is hurt. _

_ By the time you have read this letter, I will be dead and so will Hyde. _

_ I am deeply sorry that you will be hurt by this, but his choices have caused too much pain and suffering to go unpunished. _

_ Sincerely,  _

_ Doctor Henry Jekyll _

Lilly's throat closed in fear and she leaned back in her chair, he was, dead?

"Lilly-bell? What's wrong?" asked a voice. Lilly looked up from her bed to see Rosie, half dressed in the doorway. Her expression became soft, "Oh Lilly, it's Hyde isn't it? Is he alright?"

"I, he's dead," she said numbly, holding out the last page of the letter. Rosie strode over and took it, Lilly put her head in her hands. "I, I wasn't supposed to read it until past midnight but-"

"Past midnight?" Rosie repeated, frowning. 

"Aye," Lilly said weakly.

Rosie's eyes went wide and she grabbed Lilly's wrist, "Lilly, why would he put a time to read the letters if not to prevent when you knew?"

"What do you mean?" asked Lilly, feeling a glimmer of hope ignite in her chest. 

"He'll be dead by midnight, after that you'd find out and it's too late!" Rosie said, eyes wide. She grabbed Lilly's shoulders and smiled, "You have a chance to save him Lilly!"

Lilly's eyes went wide as the pieces clicked into place. She jumped out of her bed, the letter clutched in one hand as she searched for her coat. Rosie grinned and grabbed her coat as well, tossing Lilly her best pair of walking boots before pulling on her own.

"You're coming?" Lilly asked as she pulled on her largest coat and untied the elaborate bow in her hair.

"I need to be there in case something happens to you!" Rosie said, smiling somberly. "Friends stick with friends, I'm your partner in crime remember?"

Lilly smiled weakly, despite her terror, "Sure. Let's go!"

~

Gabriel Utterson was working in his study as the clock ticked closer to midnight. Unaware of the truth, the only thought he paid to the letters was an occasional glance at the time and the letters themselves. As he worked, he came upon one of the earlier drafts of Henry's will, the one that had made him so concerned over Hyde.

Every word smelled of blackmail, but if Jekyll said he'd taken care of the problem, then that was that. Nothing more to think of it.

And yet, Utterson tucked the draft of the will under the letters, something to ask Henry in depth about the next time they met. The letters remained unopened until midnight, and when they were opened, it was beyond Utterson's control.


	17. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted March 25 2018

At the door, someone knocking.

No, no Violet wasn't supposed to return, he'd calculated it! She wouldn't return until just before midnight, right? Especially if she stayed to talk with Lanyon as he would want, she shouldn't be back!

Henry's heart began to race, but he forced himself to remain calm. He locked the door of his lab and pulled off his glasses, tucking them loosely in his pocket. The knocking got louder and more frantic as he strode across the room, dragging his desk chair to the center of the room.

Above, there was a hook meant for hanging a lantern or some sort of chandelier. He'd tested it, it could bear his weight and then some. There was a metal loop screwed into the floor against the wall, as well as others along the walls, meant to hold some sort of permanent light Henry had never gotten around to installing.

It could all bear his weight.

The knocking below ceased, but for how long?

He couldn't waste any time, and he began tying one end of the thick rope to the metal ring on the floor. As he stood and fed the rope through his hands, he felt unease begin to build in his stomach. Was he really going to do this?

Better this than being consumed by a fraction of a man that believed he was real.

Henry's grip on the rope became tight as he tied the knot, making sure it was firm and just long enough that his feet wouldn't touch the floor. The chair creaked when he stood on it, looping the rope through the hook on the ceiling and looking at it hang there. 

Perfect.

Downstairs, the sound of pounding wood, harder than before, as if they were breaking down the door. No time to waste, it was now or never.

Without thinking, Henry looped the rope over his head and kicked the chair away.

**~**

Lanyon and Violet found Lilly and Rosie waiting impatiently at Jekyll's door. Lilly was pacing, wringing her hair as if it were a rag, while Rosie sat on the stoop watching. Both seemed alarmed to see Lanyon and Poole running up, but Lilly relaxed.

"You! The housekeeper! Poole right?"

"How'd you know my name?" asked Poole uneasily. Lilly smiled a little, "Eddie told me about you, said you were a good cook. Can you get the door open?" Violet nodded and went to the door, fumbling in her pockets for the key.

Lanyon looked to Lilly, "I, assume you're here to save him too?"

"I'm here for Hyde," Lilly said with a nod, "But if saving Hyde means saving this Jekyll too, then so be it."

"And I'm here to offer moral support if things go south," Rosie said, standing from the steps and dusting off her skirt.

"I don't have the key!" Violet shouted suddenly, frantically searching her pockets. "The door wasn't locked when I left, he must've locked it behind me!" 

"He really thought this out didn't he?" said Lanyon bitterly, eyes scanning the door as if looking for an answer.

"I've got this," Lilly said, stepping up beside Violet, "Get back." Poole nodded and hopped off the steps, practically tripping into Lanyon's arms as Lilly hiked up her skirt.

To everyone's surprise, she raised a foot and planted into the door directly beside the heavy doorknob. She kicked once, twice, three times before the wood of the door frame cracked and the wood gave away. The door swung open and slammed into the inner wall and Lilly stormed in, Violet and Lanyon stared at the now open door in shock. Rosie grinned and jerked a thumb at Lilly as she climbed the steps, "I taught her that."

Lanyon shook off his stun and took Violet's hand, pulling her inside after the Flower girls.

Lilly was standing in the foyer, looking around in confusion, "Where would he be?"

"The lab likely," Violet said numbly.

"Up here!" Lanyon said, taking initiative and leading the charge up the stairs to the heavy set door. He looked back to see Poole and Rosie talking, they share a nod and ran for the kitchen. He shook his head and focused on the situation at hand as Lilly tried the knob. "It's locked."

"Of course it is," he said sourly. He pounded on the door, "Jekyll! We need to speak with you now!"

No response for a moment that felt like an eternity, then something that sounded like: "Help." Lilly and Lanyon shared a panicked look and again Lilly raised her skirt, planting a kick in the door. 

But this one did not yield to her or Lanyon, even as they both threw their weight against it. The lock remained steadfast.

~

He woke in pain as fear surged through his heart. Pain shot through his bones, making the ache at his throat feel like almost nothing. His lungs were already burning and his spine felt like it was going to crack, hell it probably was. 

Edward reached up, feeling his hands shake in pain and fear as he searched over head for the rope. He found is and grabbed it with both hands, desperately trying to pull himself free, if only for a second that he might get more air. 

His neck ached, sore and burning from the scratching rope, he could feel the knot of the noose rubbing at the nape of his neck under his hair. He was going to die here, unless whoever was at the door managed to get in and God he hoped they did.

He'd known this was going to happen, how could he not? The dream had been proof enough it was going to happen, but that was what he'd wanted wasn't it?

Hyde gasped in a breath and, just before his arms gave out from holding himself up he spat: "Damn you Jekyll..." But still he clawed at his throat, trying to get his fingers under the rope and steal himself some air, another breath, a second longer.

Another moment alive before he died.

God help him, he didn't want to die, not yet.

A pounding at the door, someone calling to him, to Jekyll. Maybe there was still a chance, if he could only breathe! Hyde grabbed the rope again and heaved himself barely out of the noose, he sucked in a breath and tried to call out, but already his voice was weak from choking and it came out as nothing more than a weak whine.

He could only pray they heard, and that they could break down the door in time. His throat was burning.

~

"Out of the way!" cried Violet, charging up the stairs, an axe in her hand. Lilly backpedaled as the maid drew back and swung with all her might, the blade of the axe landing solidly above the doorknob. She pulled it free and swung again, wood splintered beneath the blows and she cried: "Try it again Lilly!"

Once more, Lilly kicked the door with all her might and it broke away, swinging into the lab. 

And everyone froze.

It was only a second, petrified with fear, but long enough to see that the man in the noose was still alive. One hand was clawing at the rope at his throat while the other was gripping it over his head, trying vainly to lift himself free of the deadly noose.

Lilly ran forward and lifted him by the legs, "Someone cut him down! Hurry!" Lanyon ran to help her, for one man's weight is no easy thing to carry alone. Violet stood frozen in the doorway, clutching the axe to her chest as Rosie ran up behind.

The other Flower Girl rolled her eyes and shoved Violet into the room, "Don't just stand there, cut him down!"

Poole shook her head, forcing herself to focus as she searched the room for the rope. It was a pulley, far over complicated for such a simple task, one end tied to the floor, the other pulled through a hook on the ceiling. She ran to where it was tied to the floor, raised the axe, and swung.

It cut clean through the rope and the man, Hyde, dropped into Lilly and Lanyon's arms, gasping for air as they set him down. Frantically, Lanyon loosened the noose and pulled it free from his neck, watching in relief as Hyde breathed again, coughing hard, a hand at his throat. Lilly sat there and held him close, her eyes wide and empty as she simply held him, listening to her lover catch his breath again.

The room fell into silence, and all eyes were on the blonde man collapsed on the floor in Lilly's arms. She said something to him, barely above a whisper, and pulled him closer As his breathing slowed, he smiled and managed to rasp out a feeble: "Thank you." 

A sensation of relief filled the room as the realization that he  _ wasn't going to die  _ finally sank in. Poole righted a chair tipped onto the floor and collapsed into it beside the desk, the axe dropping uselessly to the side. Rosie, who'd watched everything from the doorway, smiled to herself, turned, and walked away, not to be heard of again for the rest of the evening, this was not her place. Lanyon leaned against the wall and let out a small laugh, "Well,  _ that  _ was an adventure."

"Sure, adventure," Lilly said weakly, wrapping her arms around Hyde and holding him close to her.

"Remind me to punch Henry when he wakes up," Lanyon continued, pointing to Edward, "I want a word with him."

"I'm, afraid, that's not possible, anymore," Edward rasped, rubbing his throat with a weak cough. He sat up a little straighter, still resting his head on Lilly's shoulder but looking towards Lanyon. "There's, a reason, he chose tonight. It, the transformations, they were getting out of control."

"What do you mean?"

"He, I, was going to become permanent," Hyde said, coughing into his hand. "At first, they were, involuntary oscillations, back and forth. I, Henry, started taking larger doses to remain himself until-" here again he coughed, rubbing at his throat. "Until, until it stopped working. He was, terrified of that, terrified of losing, of losing himself. After, after the murder, Carew, it was, too much for too long."

"God I should've known," Violet said, putting her head in her hands. "I should've seen the signs and done something more, we never would, maybe we could've-"

"It isn't your fault," Hyde continued, sitting on his own now. Lilly stood and offered her hand to steady him as he rose shakily to his feet. He was shuddering and had to lean on Lilly again, when he spoke he sounded ill. "Violet, none of this was your fault, or Lanyon's, all the blame is my own and Henry's. By the time you all were involved, it was too late. I, I should never have killed Carew, just as Henry should never have used some strange mineral to cure the incurable."

"He was trying to cure his condition?" asked Lanyon. He sighed and hung his head, "God, Jekyll you fool."

Hyde rubbed his eyes, squinting at his feet. "Where, Henry's glasses, they fell off after we dropped."

Lanyon stood, picking the small frames off the ground and staring at them. Part of him protested, these belonged to Henry Jekyll, a dead man, a suicide victim, a mad scientist who'd lied to him,  _ repeatedly.  _ But before him stood a murderer, an honest man, a bit of an arse and a lover, someone who wanted to live.

Someone who, wasn't Henry. 

Hesitantly, he gave the glasses to Hyde, who smiled and put them in his pocket. "I wanted to make sure they didn't get shattered by someone stepping on them. I still need them you know!" Edward explained light heartedly and then coughed hard. When he cleared his throat he continued, "My eyesight's as bad as his! Maybe even worse, I can't really compare." 

He shrugged and rolled up his shirt sleeves, tossing Jekyll's black satin gloves to the side. He didn't notice Poole's eyes go wide in surprise, but he did remember she hadn't seen before. Well, she'd seen the ones on his wrists, but not the rest.

"What, happened to your, his, hands?" asked Violet, standing and walking over, taking one of Hyde's hands and staring at the crossing cuts,but particularly to the familiar ones on his wrists.

Edward sighed, "Too much, for too long. This happened as a way to put off that." He jerked a thumb at the discarded rope. He saw Poole's eyes go wide and she made a little noise of concern.

He pulled his hand free, "It's past, scarred over and gone. I, appreciate your concern, but it's for naught. Now can we please leave this room?" He looked back at the fallen noose, "It's, unnerving in here."


	18. Waking Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally Posted April 13 2018

The house was silent, dead silent.

No one dared speak, be it from the elephant in the room or the fact none of them wanted to consider the truth. Henry Jekyll was gone and he'd tried to kill himself. 

Lanyon was seated in an arm chair, legs tucked up to his chest, eyes staring into space as he turned the events of the evening over in his mind. Poole was in the kitchen, moving robotically through the motions of making tea, desperately trying to distract herself. Lilly was seated on a couch in the parlor, her head resting on one hand, exhausted.

And Hyde was pacing.

He hadn't been able to stop moving since they'd come down stairs, every so often he'd throw a glance up at the laboratory and fight the urge to shiver. Twice he tried to speak, but both times his voice came out a death rattle, he didn't want to speak like that. Yet the words were swirling in his mind, he wanted to explain, to say anything and everything, but to hear the voice of a dead man when he spoke was, was worse than waiting to say anything. 

Something shattered in the kitchen and everyone jumped in fear, turning to look towards the sound. Lanyon stood, "Violet, we, we shouldn't have let her go alone. This is the worst for her we-" he looked to the others and sighed, "I, should go comfort her."

Lanyon started towards the kitchen, looking over his shoulder with an expression of, almost disgust. 

Hyde started to follow, and stopped, wilting and sighing. He was the last person to comfort Violet, hell it was  _ his _ fault everything was wrong. He sat heavily on the couch and put his head in his hands, God this would've been easier if he'd just died in there. Not from a suicidal stand point, he didn't want to die now or even later for that matter, but Poole wouldn't have to deal with her closest friend being someone else she didn't know.

God he hadn't even thought about how Poole would feel, or Lanyon, he'd just gone and done it. 

Hyde jumped again as a hand was placed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Lilly in her seat beside him. "Eddie, that wasn't you that did that, was it?" He shook his head, shoulders slumping. "It was Jekyll, wasn't it?" He nodded, then shook his head, giving her a confused expression.

Lilly frowned too, "Of course, you two are the same person. It's, not all him or all you, it couldn't be." She sighed and sat up straighter, folding her hands in her lap, "You know that means-"

Edward put his hand on her shoulder, and despite his rattling voice he said, "Lilly, I don't plan on dying any time soon."

"Are you sure though?" she asked, turning to him. She took his hands, "Edward, be honest with me, don't lie to save me. Are you sure he won't come back and try that again? Are you sure  _ you  _ won't try that?" Lilly's voice cracked on the final words, she covered her mouth and looked away, trying to hide the tears. "I don't, want to lose my friend."

Again, Hyde wilted. He reached out, cupping her face in his hand and turning her too look at him. "Lilly, my newest, closest friend, the woman who helped show me how to live again, I, I don't want to go. I can't, be sure of anything at this point, but I'm sure I do not want to die. That's all I've got right now."

Lilly sniffed, angrily scrubbing at her eyes, but she nodded. "For now, that'll do."

~

Lanyon skid into the kitchen in time to see Poole throw a teapot to the ground with all her might, watching the shiny white porcelain shatter and the brown colored liquid spill onto the tile of the kitchen. "Violet?" She turned from him and pulled a pan from the stove top, throwing it too to the ground with both hands and crumpling against the counter, shaking. He had to jump out of the way to avoid a frying pan to the kneecaps.

Lanyon stepped forward again, reaching out to her, "Violet, speak to me."

"He's gone!" she snapped, turning fast, face distorted with a scowl and free of tears. "He's gone and he  _ lied  _ to us Lanyon, he LIED to us for so long." She pounded fist on the counter top, "And I thought, I thought we could BE something, that I had the chance, the opportunity to be  _ his _ but no, not even his idiotic, wild haired moronic second half would want me. No he wants that harlot!" 

She glared at Jacob, making him take a step back in fear, "And you, you  _ knew  _ didn't you? About Hyde, about this whole ordeal you  _ knew  _ and you did  _ nothing  _ you coward. Well look at what your inaction did! Jekyll is  _ dead  _ Lanyon, you killed him!"

"I didn't kill him," Lanyon said, scowling.

"No, you let him kill himself," Poole said bitterly, turning away and balling her fists.

Jacob opened his mouth to snap, to shout, and he felt his throat close up. Tears bubbled in his eyes, and try as he might nothing would get rid of them. He wiped at his eyes and said: "You think, you think I'm  _ okay  _ with this?" Poole turned to face him. "Violet, my friend, the man I loved for a long time and who I still care deeply for just commit suicide. You think I'm, you think I don't know this is partly my fault?"

Violet's shoulders slumped, "Jacob I-"

"You're completely right!" he snapped, trying harder to wipe the tears from his face. "I should've, I should've just told you all when he  _ begged  _ me to save him, I-I should've, I should've done something, been there." His hands dropped to his sides and he sobbed, "It's my fault he, he thought, he thought he was alone."

Poole's anger faded as she looked to this man, someone she could call a friend, break down in tears right in front of her. He throat closed and she walked over, wrapping Lanyon in a hug both of them desperately needed. 

"I didn't even read his letter," she said numbly. "I didn't, get the chance, because you panicked."

After a minute, Lanyon pulled away from Violet, still clearly distraught but trying his best to pull together. He took a steadying breath, "I, we, I said I wouldn't help him. But, but the idea that he'd, try again, I couldn't let it happen."

"We just missed the important part that he was beyond saving," Poole said bitterly, glaring in the direction of the parlor. Jacob sighed, "Maybe. But, I mean, there's still a chance he's still in there."

"You want to test that theory?" Poole snapped. Both of them paused, the same curious look coming across their faces as the idea sank in. Slowly, Lanyon nodded, "I do."

"Then we find out, here and now, who that, thing, in there is," Poole said, nodding.

Before Lanyon had a chance to stop her she stormed out of the kitchen and into the parlor. The very sight of Hyde holding hands with that harlot made her furious and when they noticed her entrance she snapped: "Edward Hyde, you keep saying in your letters, in your words, that you're still something like the man we knew. Well tell me now, who am I to you? Who was I?"

Hyde looked stunned for a moment, he glanced at Lilly then stood. "Violet, you were the friend I never deserved." He rubbed his neck in thought, "I uh, you saved my life repeatedly without knowing it. You, reminded me I could carry on, often, and I appreciate that."

Poole blinked in surprise, though her expression read disgust. "In that case, who's  _ she  _ to you?" Lilly looked up in surprise, "What does this have to do with  _ me _ ?"

"You're a harlot, a prostitute," Violet said bitterly. "Take a guess."

"She's a dear friend," Edward interrupted, stepping between Violet and Lilly. "And she's nothing to do with Jekyll, only Hyde, because I'm the one who loves her, not him. He couldn't, his heart was frozen and numb."

"I refuse to believe that."

"Why? Because you don't trust me? Or because you refuse to believe Jekyll was incapable of caring when he was drowning in his own mind?" Hyde snapped, balling his hands into fists. "Poole,  _ Violet _ , he tried okay?  _ I  _ tried, I tried a lot, to love, to care, and I  _ couldn't _ , not when as soon as I felt alive it was whisked away and I was drowned by my thoughts again. It was, easier to be numb."

"That excuses nothing!" 

"What am I  _ making excuses for _ ?" His voice rose to such a shout that it cracked and he paused to cough painfully, gagging as his throat ached. "I messed up! I killed a man because I was so used to being numb that the second I genuinely felt I gave in and its-" he tried to articulate, his hands bent into claws near his face, and they went limp and fell to his sides. "I don't know anymore Violet."

"Then what about me?" asked Lanyon, stepping forward. "All those years ago, that time we spent, were you numb then too?"

"You made numbness fade," Hyde admitted, folding his arms. "It, wasn't enough. I was, I was selfish and inconsiderate when I told you that after you confessed, I, I've always been selfish." He looked up and met Lanyon's eye, "You're, still my dearest friend Lanyon."

"Then what's  _ she _ ?" Violet demanded again, jabbing a finger at Lilly. Hyde started to speak when Lilly stood, placing a hand on his shoulder to silence him. She met Violet's glare and said: "I'm literally a woman he met outside a pub and took a liking to. I don't know what  _ we  _ are if that's what you're looking for, I don't think we're much for courting, but is this really the best time to be discussing who's courting who?"

"You don't get it-"

"Get what?" asked Lilly. "That you clearly loved Jekyll? That you feel cheated and robbed? You're not the only one hurt here." She shrugged, folding her arms, scowling, "It can't compare to this, but I was promised an education, a future away from the wonderful women who raised me, but when they saw what I looked like they sent me to the streets. I know what rejection tastes like. Violet, you're just looking for a reason to hate him, aren't you?"

Poole's shoulders slumped, her glare vanished and she folded her arms, remaining silent. Lanyon put a comforting hand around her shoulders and sighed, "I, this is going nowhere. We're all, upset clearly, but I thi-"

"Get out."

Lanyon looked to Poole, "Pardon?"

She shoved him off, "Get out! All of you! I don't want _any_ of you here, I don't, this isn't... JUST GET OUT!"

She stood, still as a statue, watching the others leave with eyes glowing like hot coals. Hyde was the last one out the door, he turned to her and started to say something, but her glare shut him up and forced him out the door.

In the silence of the house, Poole dropped to her knees and began to cry.


	19. Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted April 20th 2018

It was two in the morning, the moon was high in the sky. 

Hyde was sitting on the stoop of the Flower Girl's home, staring at the clouds over head, a borrowed blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Halfway across town, he could almost imagine his bedroom, his violin, his lab. He sighed deeply and looked at his feet, at the pavement between.

He had to go back, there was no use sitting around here when sleep wasn't coming.

Edward got to his feet and neatly folded the blanket he'd borrowed. Inside the house there was movement and voices, he left it on the doorstep for them to find when Lilly came for him.

It was freezing, but he ran. Not a jog, but a full blown sprint, the kind that aches in your legs for hours later and burns your lungs when you finally stop for air. As he ran, a cloud swept over the moon and a rain began to fall. It was maybe a mile away, but he didn't stop running until he was back on the steps of his home.

Of, Jekyll's home.

Worriedly, he mounted the soaking wet steps and knocked on the door.

A light like a carried candle moved behind the curtains and the door was pulled open. Violet stood there, her eyes red, dressed in a night gown and robe.

"What do you want?" she said bitterly.

"I, I've got nothing," he explained, voice sounding better and more human already. "I, didn't have a chance to grab anything. I, I want to stay. Violet, you've got no reason to like me and I don't expect you too. But I'm frozen, poor, and alone." He knew he sounded pathetic, but that's kind of the point.

Poole stared at him for a minute and nodded, "Come in, before you catch hypothermia."

"Thank you." Edward stepped into the house, wringing out his shirt as Violet shut the door behind him. She raised the candle to better illuminate the room, "I could've left you out there."

"And I expected you to," Hyde admitted, shivering. He looked to the dark upper floor, "I, I won't bother you. You, don't have to worry about coming for me in the morning."

"I wasn't planning on it," Poole stated, turning and making her way towards her own room. Edward watched her go, waiting until she was beyond the doorway to sprint upstairs to his, Jekyll's bedroom. 

Shivering, he stripped out of his wet clothes for something warmer, thanking Poole repeatedly under his breath as he did so, grateful to be in warm pajamas instead of the soaking clothes of a dead man. Slowly warming up, he pulled on Jekyll's- his, old bath robe, pleased to find it fit again, and lit a small lamp that rested on the bed side table.

He didn't feel like sleeping anyway, something dark waited there, he could feel it under the alcohol that he'd drank to try and drown it out while at the Flower Girl's.

Lamp in hand, Hyde returned to the lab. For a long time he stood in the door with the light, staring at the cut rope that had nearly killed him and the axe Violet had saved him with.

His throat ached and his voice still rasped when he spoke, he'd lived, but at what cost?

A cost that was not his to pay. It had been Jekyll's choice, not Hyde's, and he'd come out on top hadn't he? With a bruised throat and rope burns under his chin, but Edward Hyde had won. Right?

Edward's hand went to his throat, tracing the edges of the bruises that now ran the length of his chin. It was sore and stung at his touch, a reminder of how close he'd come to losing it all. For a moment, he saw himself there, grabbing at the rope, wanting to scream but unable to. He shook his head, almost violently, forcing away the intrusive imagery.

Hyde strode over and lifted the rope from the ground, untying the noose completely from it before wrapping it up neatly and hanging it on his arm. He set the lamp aside and returned the desk chair to it's rightful place, leaving the rope to hang on it in silence. He climbed on the chair, grabbed the hook on the ceiling with both hands, and jumped.

It could hold his weight, but now he wanted to tear it down.

It came out of the ceiling with a  _ cRACK  _ and Hyde dropped to the ground, throwing the hook to the side as one casts off a jacket. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling and nodded, that would have to do.

As he moved, a flash of motion to the side caught his eye, and he looked over to the mirror beside the door.

Silent, he walked over and stood in front of it, staring at himself. Here he'd stood before going to the Board of St. Luke's, and again before he'd taken the serum the first time. Someone new stood there now. Wearing the same nightclothes, now a size too big, and the same old glasses. Edward brushed his hair to the other side and pulled the rest back even further, if he got rid of the goatee and the shadows beneath his eyes, he'd look exactly like Henry again.

But why would he want to? Unless, of course, there was some dire need to have that selfish prick back. He was gone now, wasn't he?

"No way of truly knowing until I've tried," he said, remembering his own words before taking the serum.

And for a second, just a second, Henry was standing in the mirror, looking out at Edward with a tear streaked face and the same bruises around his neck. He put his hand to the glass of the mirror as if it were a window, his palm still gloved, and said: "Why didn't you just end this?"

Hyde sighed, his hand again tracing the bruises at his throat, "I couldn't." 

"Who are you Edward?" it asked. "What's different between you and Henry?"

"I'm honest? Mostly. I, I miss my mother, a lot, more than I should considering it's been so long, and I'm terrified of dying," Hyde answered. He shook his head, "I can't sit still, it always feels like I'm on a deadline, like there's never enough time. I want to tell them everything, even about the reasons I..." His hand went to his wrist, tracing his finger tips over the raised scars on his skin.

Memories of the first time bubbled up in his mind, the feeling of failure seeing his schoolwork incomplete after weeks of melancholy, his mother exhausted from work, he couldn't take it. The second time, and third time during that year alone. Swiping a scalpel from a doctor while incarcerated, ready to attack someone to get out, his own hands stinging and burning from cuts in the skin.

Hyde shut his eyes stinging eyes and shook his head violently, that was past. It didn't matter now, none of it did.

Because, he was new.

But how new? Jekyll's past was his, the same ghosts haunted him, the regrets and vices still screamed at him. What was different now?

The difference was that Hyde would learn from them, allow the voices and memories to scream but he'd keep walking. The shackles of the past could not hold him now, not when the future was so inviting, so bright and full of possibility.

It was time to move on, to forget those painful times and to grow. Like ashen ground after a wildfire, it was time for new growth. So Edward, his throat choked with tears, smiled at the reflection of his past self, allowing the imaginary figure to fade from his mind as he wiped tears from his cheeks. 

"You, stupid pansy," he chided himself with a chuckle, "Pull yourself together man!" He looked at his reflection again and grinned, "They still need you, because Jekyll's not gonna disappear just like that yeah? He wanted to die, to stop existing, well I say we keep on going just to  _ spite  _ that shadow that's haunted us for so long and-"

And for a moment, Hyde was Jekyll again as his mind filled with the wonder of science. A massive grin bloomed on his face and he covered his mouth, "It worked. Oh my god, it worked?" He considered things and smiled even wider, "It actually worked! I got, I got rid of it? I got rid of it, I did! By god it worked! I went through hell to get there but goddamn it worked!" He let out a shout of joy and pumped his fists in the air, "Score! Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde one! St. Luke's governors, zero! Take that you skeptics!"

So that was something that had stayed the same, the love of discovery, of science. He wasn't so different from Jekyll, and yet, just the fact that he remained there, in the mirror without those protective gloves, without the mask of perfection, it was clear that he was something, some _ one _ new.

And then there was the murder.

Hyde put his hands together as if in prayer suddenly, frowning, what would they do about the murder? No one had seen it, but Lanyon, Poole, Lilly and hell even Rosie could turn him in if they wanted. Lilly likely wasn't going to, she was who he could trust most, but Violet had clearly been so bitter-

Violet. God why hadn't he noticed before that she loved him? Had he really been so blinded with his own struggle that he hadn't seen hers? Probably. He'd been a selfish prick,  _ everything  _ was about him.

Hyde made a mental side note to burn his journal after letting them all read it, they deserved too after all. Well, maybe not. Violet, she deserved to read it  _ at least.  _ And keep it, actually, a sort of reminder of who she'd loved. What she did with it after that would be her choice, Hyde had no right to stop that.

Okay, if she used it as evidence against him then  _ maybe  _ he'd  _ probably  _ take it and burn it.

Probably.

Edward yawned and stretched, feeling the ache in his neck wake again as he moved. Suddenly tired, he took a seat in his desk chair and stared blankly at the mirror. Being emotional was exhausting, so was being dramatic.

There was something else that hadn't changed, he was still absurdly dramatic.

~

Violet found him there the next morning, asleep in the corner, on the floor, Jekyll's journal open on his lap, his light colored hair looking akin to a lion's mane.

She stood in the doorway, staring at him for a long time, before her eyes drifted to the axe still sitting on the ground. Slowly, silent as a ghost, she walked over and picked it up, turning it over in her hands and testing the weight as memories of the night before weighed in. One swing, straight down, that's all it'd take and she'd be rid of him permanently.

No ghost, no half creature, no stranger wearing her beloved's face, she could end it here.

That wouldn't work though, would it?

His face would still haunt her, wouldn't it? The blood, the screaming that would follow, the thrill of violence, it'd follow her forever. Lanyon, he'd know, so would Lilly, unless she killed them too.

But that was unnecessary.

Poole carried the axe on her shoulder and knelt, gently shaking Edward's shoulder. "Hey, Fluffy, wake up." He groaned and sat up, rubbing his neck. The bruising had darkened overnight, a purple and black stripe across his throat. Again Poole had the urge to swing the axe, she even had a mark to aim for from the noose, but she didn't.

It wasn't worth it, he didn't deserve it.

Not truly, anyway.

"Good morning Violet," Edward said with a yawn, sitting up. His voice was less raspy, and she could hear how it'd changed from Jekyll's. That wasn't her friend's voice. "Why do you have the axe? Did, did I forget to take it downstairs last night? Damnit."

"It's fine," she answered mechanically, smiling like a puppet. "I was going to take it but saw you sleeping. Figured I ought to wake you up."

"Thanks," he said with a wide, genuine grin. He stood and offered her a hand. Poole's eyes lingered on the scarring, as if they were bugs crawling on his skin, and took it, allowing him to help her up. He took the axe from her and before she could protest he'd swung it onto his shoulder and was smiling again.

_ Damn that smile _ .

"I'll carry it down. I want you to have something," he said, his smile becoming somber. Violet forced herself to smile despite the anger and repulsion in her stomach, "Sure, what?" He offered her Jekyll's journal, no he pushed it into her hands and nodded.

"Read it, all of it, you deserve to know who you were to me, him," Edward explained, his expression warm and gentle. "I, I want us to be friends still." Before Violet could protest, he was walking from the room with the axe on his shoulder, humming a little tune.

Poole stood there for a long time, and her expression became a scowl. God  _ damn  _ him, why should he walk around with such a smile when it was  _ his  _ fault Henry was gone? Why should he escape punishment for murder when Henry had been hung for no reason? Why, why could he smile like that and make it so hard for her to hate him?

He was blunt, he'd been rude, he was flirtatious and so improper it was any wonder some part of him had been a gentleman. And yet, he spoke gently, his heart was open so much his emotions made him do violent things, he was honest to the point of brutality, and he loved like there was no tomorrow. How was it so hard to hate him?

Why couldn't Violet Poole bring herself to hate Edward Hyde after everything he'd done?

Because there was some part of Henry she still saw when he'd spoke, when he'd screamed and shouted and cried. She'd seen her friend in him, scraps and shrapnel of a man who had been, but Jekyll was still there. 

Maybe, maybe it wasn't that Jekyll was gone, but that Hyde, the true Jekyll, was here now. Maybe Hyde had been those small smiles she saw when Lanyon was around, the questions he avoided answering, the dreams he never spoke of.

What had happened? How much had he  _ really  _ changed? Violet looked to the leather-bound book she now held, the letters HJ emblazoned in some bronze paint along the spine. The answers were there, in his voice, his own words.

She opened the journal, sat in the chair at the desk, and began to read.

~

Ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes.

Hyde watched the clock warily as he puts the axe away. She was reading it, certainly, how long before she came to him to talk? He sighed and picked up the broom from the corner of the pantry, intent sweeping up the shards of the shattered tea pot. 

Nearby, the door of the kitchen opened, and shut.

"Edward? Can we talk for a moment?"


	20. From the Journal Of Edward Hyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted May 4th 2018

November 13th

My name is Edward Hyde, and I don't know who I am.

Not completely anyway, I know a few things. One, I am a doctor. I was taught when my name was Henry Jekyll but I still know everything that he learned. My mother taught me medicines, and I learned how to use them from professors. I intend to find a way to return to my job as a doctor, though it may involve forging documents with the help of new and less than legal friends.

Two, I have real friends in Hastie Jacob Lanyon, Violet Poole, and Lilly; they know my secrets and trust me, more or less. They know I am human, they know who I am and who I was, and they know what happened to Henry Jekyll should've been impossible. And, they saved my life from Jekyll, who so desperately wished to die.

As for Utterson, well, he never came looking the night of the, well, you know. When Lanyon spoke with him, he simply wanted to move on, deal with the will and cut ties. I understand it, doesn't make it hurt any less.

Three, I am a murderer. I murdered Sir Danvers Carew in vengeance for his acts against Henry Jekyll, or rather myself, when I was younger. The wrongful institutionalization feels like a lifetime ago, another life completely, as does the murder. In hindsight I see it was all Jekyll's choice, it was what finally drove us apart, and made me my own man. Regardless of who's choice it was, Sir Danvers is still dead because of my choices, therefore I am guilty.

Four, I am likely not permanent. My transformations were originally brought own by my own will to experiment on myself, following that I assume it some form of withdrawal from the serum itself but I literally have no way of knowing. It has been barely forty eight hours from what Jekyll predicted was the  _ final  _ transformation, but at the time my, his judgement was flawed.

I know not how long I will last, or even if my mind will be susceptible to the same anxieties and oscillations of mood that besieged Jekyll. Perhaps some day I will wake up as Jekyll again and be dead before anyone has a chance to save my life. If he, I, we make the same idiotic decision as this most recent evening. Perhaps I will wake up as Hyde, but shrouded in the shadows of melancholy and misery and find myself in the same downward spiral as before.

I still have a large amount of the strange mineral salt that Jekyll used to create the serum, but not enough that I can go about testing random serums and mixes in attempt to save myself. So! I will live each day as if it is my last and treat it as such!

Five, I am in love and I am a lover of life. There is so much to see and all of it is so beautiful, I want to live. I have the impulse control of a child and I want to see everything, I enjoy picking fights with people, spend an absurd amount time with women because it's fun, and I get distracted by every small little thing. I cannot concentrate well, though I blame this on the fact that I am the concentrated form of Henry Jekyll's mania, but that is still no excuse.

I have no one to blame for my behavior except for myself, but it's far too easy to all brush it off on Jekyll. I'm learning, I guess, to be my own person. Independent, something different and new that Henry was too selfish to see. I say selfish because, in hindsight, I, he never looked beyond himself, his own actions and his desires. 

So, I guess I'm trying to learn at this point, to be better than he was.

Which is something one should always strive for, but apparently Jekyll never thought so. This desire to be better, and in the eyes of others to be worse, but in my own eyes to just be  _ me,  _ it's so new. No one else has a chance to start over as I have, to start wholly anew, I will make the most of it.

I'd given up so long ago on being free of the melancholy, and again when the serum created Hyde as opposed to curing Jekyll. Yet, here I am, a new man free of that ever hanging shadow to start fresh.

That night was the last of Doctor Henry Jekyll but the first true night of Edward Hyde's. I think I miss him somehow, but I don't look forward to the day he returns, if he does.

Hyde is here to stay, and I have much to achieve without Jekyll's fears and shadows to hold me back. 

Looks like our coin has finally flipped, or something.

Six, Jekyll owned out mother's apothecary, it was how we had income when he wasn't actively working at the hospital or on some experiment. I never thought to include it in the will, so I'm considering giving it to the wonderful woman that's been running it for this many years in our stead. Or, perhaps I'll simply take over operations, I'm not sure yet.

But that's what's so incredible about all this! I'm okay with not knowing! It's a little unsettling yes, but it's also intriguing! I know not what I'm going to do with this new future, but I'm certain it holds promise.

There's another thing I've learned. Seven, I am not as poetic as I thought I was. 

~

Hyde smiled and closed the journal, looking at the brand new thing with a sense of pride. New pen, new ink, new pages, new man! A silver EH was decorated on the spine, a little shaky but hand painted with pride. He stood, and looked around the room with a sigh. The room he'd used to call the lab was now his personal room, a small bed added to one corner and some of the more toxic things removed. The door to Jekyll's actual room was respectfully locked now, and it was going to stay that way unless his notes or things were desperately needed.

Edward stood from the desk, stretching as he did. Jekyll had been reported as missing, but the police didn't seem to think it was connected with Hyde at all! They believed Hyde was simply family called to help find the missing doctor, thank God too! They thought the disappearance was connected with the murderer who'd sprung up after the death of Carew, as if Henry had been kidnapped or killed by this copy cat, his body dumped somewhere dark. This doppelganger went around beating rich folk's heads in and cutting them up which was absolutely awful, but it took the spotlight of Hyde.

Poole still received the house and Lanyon the notes, unofficially as they'd yet to read Jekyll's will as he wasn't technically  _ dead  _ yet, but the money was now set to go to Hyde as it was rightfully his. Violet was kind enough to let him stay in the lab until things were sorted, her excuse being she didn't want to deal with Henry's things when she didn't understand them. Edward was just grateful she was letting him stay, and he had a sneaking suspicion she had some ulterior motive.

There was no doubt that she disliked him to some degree, but at the same time, she'd yet to speak rudely to him or outright cross him. Whether she was biding her time or she'd actually changed her mind about Hyde was yet to be seen, but it didn't really matter yet.

He rolled his shoulders and strolled to the small bed, pulling his cape from one of the bed posts and swinging it around his shoulders. He needed to speak to Lanyon, not a word had passed between them since they'd met with Utterson to sort out the will the days after, Jekyll's death. No time like the present, but they had to speak!

Hyde donned his hat, then his glasses, and strode out of his room.

He paused, turning to look at the mirror beside the door, tilting his head curiously at his reflection. He strode up to it and squared his shoulders, tilting his head up and examining himself with a smile. His reflection, once strange and new, but now familiar, grinned back with its new glasses and the fading bruises of the noose on his neck. An ugly green and purple stripe that would easily be missed, that is  _ if  _ Hyde could bring himself to put on a scarf.

His reflection shimmered metaphorically and Henry Jekyll stood there, wearing Hyde's smile and the most dapper outfit he owned. There were the marks of the noose around his neck as well, but they were just as vibrant as the first morning after. Jekyll's smile fell away and he began to speak, though he was silent beyond the mirror and entirely imaginary.

Hyde smiled at the fictional reflection, and tipped his hat to it before turning and leaving the lab.

He slid down the banister and hopped off into the foyer with a lively flourish, calling to Poole- wherever she was- that he was off for the evening. With some pocket change in hand, he walked out onto the street into the sunny afternoon. This gave him a reason to pause, Hyde hadn't ever had a moment to stop and stare at the daylight sky as he had the night.

Gloomy clouds and blotches of blue created a patchwork of ever-shifting mists and winds, Edward found himself unable to look away from the rolling skies as he set off along the road towards Lanyon's home. He was so preoccupied with the sky that he didn't notice Lanyon hurrying towards him until they collided like a most horrible of train wrecks. Edward staggered back and splashed into a puddle, Jacob caught himself on a light post, and they stared at each other.

"I meant to come see you," Edward began, picking himself up off the pavement. 

Jacob continued to stare, eyes flickering up and down. He recognized the clothes Hyde wore, the same ones Henry had when he was younger and thinner, his favorite vest that he always left open on the bottom button, here it was the same. 

Edward pulled off his top hat and held it to his chest, a respectful gesture that matched with his wide blue eyes, watching Jacob with a small pout. "Lanyon, I've spoken with Poole and we've made amends, yet you will not speak with me. I don't understand why, I have apologized for my foolish actions and thanked you for helping me piece things back together, yet... I feel as if you've begun to pull yourself away from me. Is it, impossible for us to rekindle our friendship?"

Jacob stared, blinking once. Did he want to give Hyde a second chance? He'd ruined everything as Jekyll already, did he even deserve it? He'd lied- but he'd felt awful for it, so awful he had to take his own life! That same sparkle Hyde now held in his eyes, was that not the same light that had enchanted Lanyon so during their schooldays? 

Slowly, he let go of the lamp post and stepped towards Hyde, head tilted. Not sure what he was doing, Lanyon took one of Hyde's hands and spread the fingers, examining each spot of scarred skin on the wrist, in the folds of the palm and fingers, things so long hidden by those silken gloves. Like the secrets, like Jekyll's pain, now they wre simply there for all to see.

By simply being, Hyde had proven he held the honesty that Lanyon had used to love.

How much of Jekyll was really gone?

"Jacob?" That tone, the only difference was now it was deeper, a bit more growling, but it was the same.

He looked up, "Henry?"

Edward shook his head, "Not quite, I'm sorry. I can't go back to being him, I don't want to, I want to start over, start new. But, it's only a change of name to you." He smiled, "At least, I hope that's all it must be. Say, would you, like to join me for a drink? A visit to the library perhaps? Merely, the afternoon together, that I might prove I'm still the man you knew."

Yet again, Jacob blinked.

But this time, he smiled, dropping Edward's hand that he could hold it between them. "I think I'd like that, actually. It's been, a stressful week you know."

Hyde laughed, "Oh believe me! I know!"


End file.
